


Storybrooke Auction - Love For Sale

by InMyEyes2014



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-03-10 08:37:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 39,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3283967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InMyEyes2014/pseuds/InMyEyes2014
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ruby and Belle have planned an auction of Storybrooke's most eligible bachelors as a way to raise money for charity. The women of Storybrooke are counting their money while they imagine Dr. Whale making dinner, Leroy and the dwarfs cleaning houses, the Merry Men moving furniture, and more. Much to Emma's amusement, Killian has agreed to participate. Will she be the highest bidder?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

A/N: This is purely a fluff piece that is meant to make you laugh. In terms of time line and setting, this would be during the six weeks after the 4A finale. Everything is calm and good in Storybrooke and our favorite characters are enjoying those quiet moments leading up to Valentine's Day.

Ruby Lucas used her hip to open the door between the kitchen and dining room of Storybrooke, Maine's only diner, two hot plates in her hands as she bypassed tables of already served customers and made her way to the table closest to the dart board. Clearing her throat, she waited for the couple to break apart from their kiss and then slid the plates between them.

"You know that the wait staff has been pooling their tips to pay for you guys to get a room, right?" she said with an amused smile. "The lovey dovey stuff is cute, but you might be scaring off some of the customers."

Emma Swan blushed as she settled back in her seat, unfolding the napkin to place on her lap. "Sorry, Ruby," she said, avoiding eye contact with her companion as he chuckled. "We'll try to tone it down."

"I've heard that before," Ruby said, not moving from her spot even when the two both dug their forks into the meals in front of them. She again cleared her throat, gaining their attention as they both swallowed.

"There are customers who have something against us eating?" Emma asked, both her eyebrows raising up in confusion. "Or did you want something else."

The tall brunette ran her hands over her red skirt, smoothing it against her long legs. "Actually, yes," she said. "Granny's is hosting two events this month and I need volunteers." She smiled sweetly at both of them, her red lips curling upward with a secret. "First, we're having a staff appreciation night. Granny and I are going to take over the kitchen and we thought that some of our regulars could work and serve the staff that night."

Emma nodded cautiously. "That sounds like a nice idea," she said. "You want us to be wait staff for the evening?"

Ruby looked a bit uncomfortable. "I was asking you, Emma," she said. "Your parents have already agreed. Your mother is running the cash register and David's actually going to bus tables."

The sound of laughter rose again from Killian Jones, his expression hiding none of the amusement he felt picturing the prince with a box of dirty dishes and a wet rag hanging off his belt. He was already contemplating ways to witness this event. "You don't need my assistance?" he asked, lifting his coffee mug to his lips for a silent sip.

"Not that night," Ruby said, leaning toward the two as if about to divulge a secret. "But I do need you for the auction."

Now it was Emma's turn to react, stifling a laugh at the sincere gaze of Ruby and the shocked expression of Killian. "And what exactly are you planning to auction?" Emma finally asked when the woman did not volunteer any additional information.

"Oh, just the men of Storybrooke," she answered, waving her hand as if this was the most natural of ideas. "We have a list of men who have agreed to let women or men, if that's how it goes, bid on them for services. Dr. Whale will be cooking dinner for the winner of his auction. Jefferson is planning something about an evening in the park. Will's still working on his idea. All the Merry Men are being auctioned off together and will be doing odd jobs at the home of the winner of that one. I think some of the dwarfs are being auctioned together as a cleaning service – your mother's idea. So what do you say, Hook? Want to give back to charity? All the proceeds are going to the school foundation."

"Who pray tell will be paying for all these services?" Killian asked, grinning crookedly as Emma seemed to contemplate this event thoroughly. "I would hope that Emma would want my services, but she knows that she has though for free."

"Not that night she won't," Ruby said triumphantly, assuming his question meant that he was willing. Several of the women in town had specifically asked about him when she was describing the plan. She thought this would be so much harder to convince him. "She'll have to outbid the competition to get you."

Emma laughed. "Too bad I'm on a budget," she said, using her fork to point at Killian. "I've got plans to move. Maybe I could buy the Merry Men and have them move my stuff to the new place when I get it. Merry Men's Moving Service could be a great business name."

"You wouldn't bid on me?" Killian asked, disappointment tinging his otherwise amused expression. "I'm hurt, love. I thought you'd jump at the chance."

"Well, I wouldn't want to see you with no bids so I might throw a few dollars your way," she conceded, chewing her omelet thoughtfully. "What service are you going to offer? Like you said, I can get most things you offer for free." She smiled flirtatiously, letting her eyes rake over him. "But I do like the idea of you being mine for the evening."

"Whoa!" Ruby said, taking a step back from the table. "This is about raising money for charity and good clean fun. I'm not running a prostitution ring here. And if I was, I wouldn't invite the sheriff and her boyfriend to participate." The loud and insistent voice of the Widow Lucas rang out over the crowd, beckoning her granddaughter to come back and pick up a few more orders. "Be back later."

Emma watched Killian dig into his breakfast plate, the pinkish glow of his blushing from earlier still evident. "So you going to do it?" she asked, her booted foot colliding with his under the table. "Are you going to go up on display and let the women in this town ogle you and try to outbid each other?"

"Aye," he said, grinning as her foot moved a bit higher on his leg. "Ruby said it was a good cause. Perhaps I will bring in such an amount as to make you jealous, love?" His blue eyes sparkled at the thought. "I just need to come up with some service to offer."

She ran a forkful of her eggs through the tiny container of salsa and paused before taking a bite. "The obvious choice is you'd take the winner sailing," she said.

"Would you bid on that?" he asked playfully. "How much would you pay for a day alone with me on the water?"

She giggled. "Like I said, I'm a woman on a budget. And right now the services of the Merry Men are more appealing to me. Maybe you and Mr. Smee could be auctioned together. You know? Buy one get one free?"

A/N: Please tell me what you think? Should I continue?


	2. All In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The support for this has been so great. Thank you all. I'll try to update this once a day if I can.

Pongo strained against the leash as Belle Gold approached the dog’s owner, Dr. Archibald Hopper. The dark haired beauty bent to stroke the speckled coat of the dog, smiling up at the owner. “You said you’d think about it,” she reminded Archie. “Do you have a decision?”

“I’m not so sure about this,” the man said, adjusting his glasses on his head. Archie pulled back on the leash and groaned. “Has anyone else agreed?”

Belle smiled. She and Ruby had come up with the idea of an auction after a recent meeting about the school’s budget crisis. The idea was simple enough and would cost little to host, but it could raise thousands if enough of the women in town decided to participate in the bidding. The first step was the men. “Of course,” she said, listing for him the recruits that Ruby had already secured. Ruby was much better at recruiting the men than Belle had been so far, but the list was still growing and talk had already started spreading. “I even have the perfect idea for you. We’re going to host a wine tasting at the library. You can bring your winner and stay for a poem reading that we’re going to hold afterward. I know a lot of women would pay good money for that.”

The therapist did not look convinced. “It would be pretty embarrassing if nobody bid on me,” he said. “I’m not sure.”

Belle tilted her head to the side and smiled, trying to remember how she’d seen Ruby convince Will Scarlett and Viktor Whale to agree. “I wouldn’t worry about that,” she said, smiling in what she hoped was a shy way. “I know I’d bid on you.” She cringed inwardly, thinking how lame that sounded coming out anyone but Ruby’s mouth.

The man’s face seemed to turn the color of his hair, his breathing shallow as the petite woman bent down to pat the dog again. “I guess that would be okay,” he said shakily. “I’ll do it.”

Belle rose up to standing and smile. “Great. I’ll put you down. Now be at Granny’s on Thursday for your photo!” She waved merrily and jogged across the street toward the diner to report the latest recruit to Ruby. So far the list of participants was growing impressive. While everyone was not going to fetch a high price, Ruby had assured her that the object was to find a cross section of men who would be attractive to the women in town. Everyone had different taste, the waitress had insisted. 

Ruby poured her partner in the event a cup of coffee and grinned. “I got one,” Belle announced gleefully, removing her coat before sitting on one of the barstools. “Archie is a yes.”

“I’m impressed,” Ruby commented, pushing the bowl of sweeteners toward her. “I convinced Hook.”

Belle was glad she had not sipped the coffee yet, as Ruby would have surely been wearing it. “Hook?” she asked incredulously. “You convinced Hook?”

Ruby flipped her long dark hair over her shoulder with the back of her hand and stood proudly. “I know what I’m doing,” she said with a wink. “Anyway. He’s a built in ringer for the money. You think Emma’s going to let anyone outbid her? She’ll pay a fortune just to intimidate the other women.”

“I don’t know,” Belle said, running her hands around the warm mug. “Lots of women will not want to go up against her. She could end up being the only bidder and get him for like $20.”

“I think there will be some dying to get a chance with him. But you could be right, that’s why we’ll put some plants in the crowd,” Ruby said, leaning forward and dropping her voice low as though someone might overhear. “I know Tinkerbelle will do it. Maybe Mulan? I don’t know. 

Maybe I’ll even throw in a bid. We’ll get some women to drive the price up and get Emma jealous. Jealous women pay more.” Her dark eyes crinkled with the strategy of her plan. “We’re going to raise a fortune.”

Belle laughed nervously, taking a sip and then returning it to the saucer. “You are a devious planner,” she complimented. “I can’t believe we have so many volunteers.”

Ruby grinned and held up a finger as she walked to the service window and picked up another order. Promptly delivering it, she returned to 

Belle. “So what about you?” she asked. “Who are you planning to bid on? Anyone in mind?”

Belle’s already porcelain complexion went pale. “I’m married,” she reminded Ruby, holding up her left hand. “I can’t bid.”

“Of course you can,” Ruby admonished. “Snow’s already planning on bidding for the dwarfs to clean both the loft and city hall. And Aurora said she is going to participate. Besides, your husband is banished from town. I’m not sure how it works legally, but I’m thinking you are not exactly in a committed relationship at the moment. Live a little.”

“I’ll think about it,” she said. “Oh I was going to check with my father and see if he might agree to be one of the bachelors. Something for the older women in town.” Belle tried to sound upbeat, ignoring the insinuation that she was back among the single women. 

“Good idea,” Ruby said. “I could see some of the ladies enjoying that.”

The two continued their conversation between orders and were almost done with their confirmed and wish lists by the time Belle headed back to the library. 

***AAA***

Emma stuffed the brochure into a two pocket folder and passed it to her father for a label to be glued on the front, grinning as Killian placed a finished kit in the cardboard box. “How many kids are there in that class anyway?” she asked David Nolan as she stared at the two already full containers. “Just how many are we doing?”

The sandy haired man laughed, adding the label on the outside of the bright yellow folder with a generous amount of the strong-scented, rubber cement. “It’s something the town has done for years,” he reminded her. “Every child gets a safety lesson on swimming, biking, and other outdoor activities. It’s part of the curriculum and we have to do it.”

“Seems to me that we might want to change it up since it is the same every year,” Emma protested. “And since this is Storybrooke, maybe the right idea would be a lesson on magic and avoiding curses. We could sell tickets as a fundraiser.”

David laughed. “I’ll suggest that for next year,” he said. “Speaking of fundraisers. I hear that Ruby recruited the two of you.”

“Not you too, mate,” Killian said with a solid shake of his head. “All I’ve been hearing since the she-wolf roped me into this occasion is how I have to ‘show off the merchandise to attract the bidders.’ Whatsoever that means.”

The prince blanched at the idea, curling an arm over his stomach as though it physically pained him to imagine. “I don’t need to picture that,” he said. “Are you not planning to bid, Emma?”

Her lips twisted upward, but she continued her stuffing of the folders. “I’m planning to shop around for a bargain,” she said, ignoring her boyfriend’s pointed huff. “Killian has always been so sure of his prowess with the ladies that I’m not sure he’s in my price range.”

“We might can work out a deal,” Killian teased to the groans of David. “In private, of course.”

“I think I’m glad that I’ll just be bussing tables that night,” David said, tossing another completed folder to Killian. “I think that will wear me out so I won’t have to go watch this auction.”

“You’re not putting yourself up for sale, mate?” Killian asked innocently. “I would think that your wife would pay quite a lot to keep you.” The glint in his eye made Emma giggle and David blush. 

“I’d raise more than you, mate,” David said gruffly, emphasizing the last word. “But married men are not invited to participate in this auction.” 

“You think that you can entice the ladies of this town to throw their gold coins out for a day with you?” Killian answered, his head jerking back in surprise. “Alas I think your father has been affected by that glue you used on the labels, love. He’s hallucinating.” 

Emma looked down, concentrating on her work and pretending that she was not hearing this exchange. However, the men seemed to enjoy it too much to give it up at the moment. 

“I’m revered in this town,” David shot back. “If Mary Margaret were not in the picture, half of the women in Storybrooke would be calling on me.” He folded his arms firmly over his chest and looked narrowly at the pirate across from him. “You shouldn’t get too cocky, Hook. You may have convinced my daughter that you are some dashing rogue she wants to spend time with, but other women around here aren’t so easily swayed.” His chest expanded as he watched Killian’s mouth drop to respond and quickly shut again.

“Hey,” Emma said, elbowing her father. “I think you just insulted me there, Dad.”

“My apologies for your father’s words, Emma” Killian said sarcastically. “It appears that the prince feels slighted in his exclusion from this auction. Since we are dealing with a hypothetical here, I’m not sure we’ll ever know if he could live up to his claims.”

David’s eyes darkened as he dropped the folder that Emma had just handed him. “We’ll see about that,” he said, pulling out his cell phone and dialing the number to the diner. “Ruby? Do you still need men to be auctioned because I’d love to volunteer?”

***AAA***

Leaning on her elbows, Emma waited on the bartender at the Rabbit Hole to finish whatever discussion he was having with the red haired woman in the low cut top. For the first time in a long time, Emma regretted being at a bar on a date, wishing she could flash a little cleavage or leg for drink. Instead, she had been stealing sips from Killian’s rum and pretending like she wasn’t being ignored. 

After clearing her throat a few times, the burly man behind the counter slid the beer bottle toward her and shrugged when she asked if she should go ahead and order a second one now so it would be ready. After all, popping the cap off a bottle seemed like an awful lot of work to do for the man. 

“I say we pool our money,” said one of the women at the bar to another. “On my salary I’ll be lucky to win a dwarf, but if we do it together…”

“Sounds like a plan,” the other one answered. “Who are we going for? Captain Hook or Will Scarlett?”

Emma left them debating, chuckling to herself as they compared everything from hair and accents to the way they smelled. Lifting her drink and arms up in the air, Emma shimmied between two tables of drunken residents and flopped down next to her date. “Next time I’m going to take you up on your offer to buy me a drink,” she said, tilting the bottle back for a quick swig. “Obviously I’m losing my appeal.”

Killian’s head drooped lower as she lifted his left arm and placed it over her shoulders, a move that he usually initiated. He did not look up at her, keeping his eyes cast downward as she noticed a burning redness spread up his neck and to his cheeks. “What is going on with you?” she asked, taking his chin in her hand and lifting his face into her line of sight. “I thought you wanted to come here?”

Slightly shaking his head, he darted his eyes over to the table next to them where three young women sat nursing what looked like fruity mixed drinks. “Emma,” he said cautiously, not turning to face the table of women. They were not as subtle. 

“What do you think is included on that boat trip?” one of the women boldly asked the other two, her voice loud even over the thundering bass of the live music. 

“I don’t care,” the one closest to them answered. “I’d pay good money to be out there with him. If his clothing got a little wet, all the better.” The three women laughed uproariously, completely ignoring the amused expression from Emma and the way that Killian was reddening more by the second.

“You’ve got a fan club,” she said, leaning back to study his reaction. “And I think you like that.”

“Emma,” he repeated, shaking his head. “I didn’t…”

She kissed his cheek softly and watching his eyes implore her for understanding. “Of course not,” she said. “They are drunk and you’re going to get a lot of that,” she pointed at the table of women with her beer bottle, “wherever we go between now and then.”  
“It doesn’t bother you?” he asked, his complexion a bit less red. “Even if they were estimating my size before you made your way over here?”

Emma laughed. “I’m not sure how to respond to that,” she confessed. “Part of me wants to laugh at the absurdity and the other half of me wants to know what they thought.” Pursing her lips together and tilting her head as if to demonstrate the difficulty of making that decision, she ran her hand down the bottle. “It doesn’t bother me. Does it bother you?”

He leaned a bit closer to her ear, his voice deeper at such a close range. “Compliments are flattering, love, but the attention is quite embarrassing.” 

She watched the women lean in toward each other, their conversation continuing with not so furtive glances toward Killian. Emma could hear the pirate-related innuendos and talk of walking the plank for a chance at that. She was very tempted to laugh, but she could see that his discomfort was growing as the women continued. “It’s going to be a long two weeks,” she said, nuzzling her head into his shoulder. “But the comments are fine as long as they keep their hands to themselves.”


	3. You Know You Like It

Ruby turned the closed sign on the door to the diner, waving as the last customer ambled out past the patio and down the sidewalk toward home. It had been a long day with a split shift for her, having opened that morning and worked the breakfast shift only to come back for the dinner service. The rest of the staff had already left for the night and she had shed her uniform a few minutes after Granny had announced it was past her bedtime.   
The night was not as cold as Ruby thought it might be for early February and her hoodie was enough to protect her from the slight chill under the star peppered sky. Locking the door behind her, she headed down the sidewalk toward one of her favorite trails for a quick run to clear her head. The next morning would be another early shift – this time to capture photos of each of the volunteers for the auction. But as her grandmother often said, she’d sleep in the afterlife. 

Ruby’s sneakers slapped against the asphalt with a resounding thud that was somewhat satisfying to her. While she would have preferred to jaunt across the fields in her wolf-like state, she really just needed a quick excursion to stretch her legs and clear her mind. She knew she was unlikely choice to organize an event for the school’s foundation, as she had no children or even young people in her family. Still she had volunteered and dragged Belle along with her for the same reason. They needed this. They needed something new and different in their lives that would not be the same commonplace activities that had become of the dregs of their day.  
As she rounded the curve in the road that led to the town line, she saw Belle sitting in the long black car that had once been Gold’s. Her face was stoic and painfully blank as she seemed to stare off in the darkened distance of the outside world. It was not the first time that Ruby had come across the woman sitting in just this spot. Tapping on the window, she slid into the passenger seat and looked out through the window as if to see the same thing that her friend found so intriguing. 

“I thought you would have gone to bed by now,” Ruby said, not breaking contact with the sight of the silent road. “We have the first group coming in at 8.”  
Belle’s focus was not pulled either, her eyes squinting ahead in the dim light provided by the car. “I don’t sleep much,” she said softly.

Ruby nodded, knowing that it was true. While Belle had agreed to help with the event, she was clearly putting on a façade for the people in town. She smiled and spoke as appropriate, doing a passable job at imitating those around her to fit in with the group. But if you brought up Gold to her, she was quick to change the subject and even quicker to avoid talk of her future. “Can I ask what you are doing out here?” Ruby asked, her hand running along the door handle. “Are you expecting him to come back?”

Belle’s head turned sharply to face the waitress, her eyes looking defensive as she spoke. “He’s gone,” she said simply. “I sent him away without his magic, with no money, with…He’s gone.”

Ruby resisted the urge to say anything to stop the woman’s statement, realizing it was one of the only times that she had freely talked about the incident of Rumpelstiltskin’s banishment. After announcing that she had forced him over the town line to the small crowd at the diner, Belle had not voluntarily spoken of it again. 

“You know what someone said to me today?” Belle asked, sounding as if she was about to change the subject. “They asked if I was doing this auction thing to replace him – to find a new man.”

“Even I know you’re not,” Ruby said consolingly. “What you did was a brave thing. You not only protected yourself but everyone else in this town. It must have hurt like hell, but you did the right thing.”

“Did I? Belle asked and then quickly shook the question from her head. “Don’t answer that. Yes, it was the right thing. He did bad things and wasn’t going to stop. That’s why I had to do it. He didn’t want to change, not really.   
He only wanted to not be caught.”

Ruby reached out a hand and patted her friend’s shoulder with a soft touch. “It being the right thing doesn’t make it the easy thing,” she pointed out. “You know that I asked you to do this to distract you, but if you don’t want to…”

“It’s a good cause,” Belle said. “I’m glad to help.”

Ruby smiled. “Then why don’t we drive back to town and get ready for tomorrow. You have to be ready to talk me down because I might go a little nuts with the photos.”

Belle’s laugh was timid and her cheeks flushed as she leaned back in the seat. “I need a few more minutes here,” she said as though admitting to some horrible crime. “Just a few.”

Ruby wanted to ask her why. Was it because it was the last place she’d seen or spoke to him? Was it that final connection that seemed too hard to break? Before she could formulate a good query, Belle pointed to a small animal scampering from one side of the road to the other, just beyond the painted line. 

“We can see everything that happens on that side,” she explained slowly. “I’m not sure that they can see us, but we can see them. I wonder sometimes if he comes back to this area too. If he looks in and sees…”

“Would you want him to do that?” Ruby asked, her mind picturing someone standing there with a wall of magic separating them. “You wouldn’t hear him or be able to communicate, would you?”

“No,” Belle said. “I don’t know. I guess I wonder if he’s alright. I wonder if he is repentant. I wonder if he regrets anything.”

***AAA***

On Thursday morning, Emma slid in through the closing door of the diner behind her mother and grabbed a chair at one of the few remaining tables left open. Half of Storybrooke seemed to be having breakfast that morning, everyone nibbling on pancakes, bacon, eggs, or toast. The servers were hustling to keep up with the demands for refills on coffee and Emma wasn't even sure who threw a menu down in front of them.

"Looks like Granny's going to make her rent in one day," Mary Margaret said, settling her infant son's carrier next to her at the table. "I don't think I've seen it this busy since news of the last curse breaking."

"Guess we all had the same idea," Emma said, giving a precursory glance at the laminated menu. She always ordered the same thing and Ruby usually brought it to her without delay. However, Ruby was not behind the counter that morning, her long legged strides were kept to the back hallway where Emma caught glimpses of flashing lights. "What is going on back there?"

Her mother glanced over her shoulder and shrugged. "Looks like someone's taking photos," she said. "I just don't know why."

Emma held her hand up to pause her mother and strode around the tables and waiting patrons toward the green hallway in the back where the restrooms and the stairs to the rented rooms stood. Peering around the corner she caught glimpse of several men in a line and Ruby with a digital camera. Will Scarlet was standing on a tape marked spot in front of what appeared to be a sheet hanging from a wire.

"What the hell?" Emma asked no one in particular as she heard Ruby's voice echoing loudly.

"That's not a smile," she told the man in front of her. "Smile like you're trying to flirt with a woman. You know…sexy…" The thief attempted to show his teeth again, grinning at the camera in an awkward fashion. "Does nobody in here know how to be a model?"

Emma bit her lip to keep from laughing at the scene, noticing that behind two of the Merry Men stood Killian and David. Her eyes flew open as she watched them both studying Will and seeming to imitate what they thought Ruby might be meaning with her instructions.

"You shouldn't be back here," Belle said, approaching from the other end of the hallway with a clipboard and pen in her hands. "Private photo shoot."  
Emma shook her head and looked back at the shorter woman with curiosity. "For what?"

"Publicity for the auction," Belle told her, looking down at the list of names and making a mark next to one. "We're going to have posters printed and there will be a catalog available that night so you can better choose who to bid on in case you haven't made up your mind."

Emma watched Ruby lower the camera to her hip and sigh. "No, Will, you don't need a fan," she said. "Your hair is too short to go for that windblown look."

Emma pulled Belle's elbow, moving the woman closer to her. "If you guys want to make some real money you could do a calendar. It would be hilarious."  
Belle grinned. "We'll keep that in mind for next year," she said, nodding to Ruby when she called for the next victim. "Leroy!" The bearded man stepped forward and shrugged out of his winter coat, asking if he should remove any other clothing as the rest of the crowd groaned at the idea.

Belle's eyes narrowed to tiny slits as she watched Emma lean over to observe Killian nervously combing his hair with his fingers. "I'm not supposed to let you back here, but I can't stop you if you happen to be walking to the restroom when it's Hook's turn in front of the camera. Sound good."

Emma wrinkled her nose and glanced down at the schedule. "I think he might be nervous to have me watching or he might enjoy it too much," she said. "As much as that would be fun, I'm thinking that I'll pass. But you know I might be willing to fix a few parking tickets for anyone who gave me the rejected photos." Without waiting for an answer, Emma turned on her heel and headed back to the table to tell her mother of the scene.

"They are really going all out," Mary Margaret said upon hearing about the photo shoot. "Please tell me they aren't shirtless or something."

"Everyone is clothed," Emma assured her, waving down the waitress for more cinnamon on her recently delivered drink. "Thank God."

Mary Margaret glanced over her shoulder again, unable to see anything now that Little John and two other men were blocking the entryway. "I can't believe the excitement over this," she said. "A while back we tried a talent show to raise money. It was a bust because nobody wanted to pay to hear people sing off key."

"Who can blame them?" Emma asked, grinning down at an image on her cell phone. Belle had sneakily taken a photo of David attempting to show Killian how best to pose. They looked vaguely like two wannabe wrestlers or body builders with their arms bent and muscles flexed preposterously. She handed the phone over to her mother who gasped and then giggled at the sight. "Are you really alright with your husband doing this?" she asked. "What if Kathryn or someone bids on him?"

Mary Margaret handed the phone back and sighed. "He's not doing it for Kathryn or even me," she said. "He's doing this for you."

"Me?" Emma asked, almost dropping her phone. "I can assure you that I don't want to win a romantic drive in the country and movie night with my father."

The other woman laughed before taking a sip of her drink and setting in back in place. "Of course not," she said. "But Killian is in this and you'll be bidding on him. He wants you to see that he's just as fun loving and admired as your boyfriend. It's a pride thing."

"That's ridiculous," Emma protested a little too loudly. Dropping her voice back down, she tried to ignore the other patrons staring at her. "Why are they so competitive?"

Mary Margaret smiled at her daughter's innocence, a word that Emma would never use to describe herself. "David's your father," she said, stating the obvious connection. "He's supposed to be a hero in your eyes and now you have Hook. He knows you're a grown woman and you're in a relationship, but part of him still wants you to look at him like all fathers want with their daughters. He didn't get that when you were growing up so it hurts him a little. Plus he's probably a little jealous of some of the attention Hook gets sometimes. The man does attract attention."

"Usually negative attention," Emma pointed out. "Why be jealous of that? Dad has you, me, a grandson, a baby, and more friends and followers than anyone in this town. He's a hero and hardly a person around isn't admiring him for that. I think Killian's a little intimidated by him sometimes since those aren't things he has."

"Men are strange," Mary Margaret said, taking another sip. "It's very animal like. Marking their territory and such."

Emma groaned dramatically. "Are they going to start peeing on the furniture?" She bit angrily into a piece of toast, unable to keep the smile from her face.

"Probably," her mother said. "It may be messy, but I think this is going to be fun to watch."

***AAA***

Emma texted Killian as she ran up the steps to the loft, apologizing that she was running late and asking him for an extra 15 minutes before he came to meet her for their date. Almost missing a step, she chastised herself for trying to multitask. She blew into the loft with a hurried gait, pulling off her boots as she hopped on one foot and shimmied out her jacket. Looking toward the kitchen, she smiled in her son's direction and then frowned as she realized that Henry was at the command of what appeared to be thousands of dollars of computer equipment.

"Where'd you get that, kid?" she asked, sliding a bit in her stocking feet on the floor. "Are you trying to launch a space ship?"

"Mom bought it for me for school," Henry answered, stroking the side of the sleek laptop. "She likes to spend money when she's depressed and turns out that it's perfect for this project that Belle asked me to do for her." He spun the computer around toward her, an Adobe program open and the photographs Ruby had taken were on display.

"You're designing the catalog for the auction?" Emma asked, pausing with her surprised expression not melting away as she saw her father, Killian, and several of the men in town displayed in edited portraits. "What?"

"Belle said it was for charity," he commented. "I'm just editing these question and answers from each of the men." He pointed at a stack of papers. "Some of their answers are strange."

She knew that Killian would be there soon, expecting her to be ready for some sort of musical group that was playing at one of the warehouses by the docks. He'd heard about it from Will, learning that someone was wanting to open a nightclub in the space that had stood vacant for way too long. But she couldn't help but lift the mock up pages and thumb through the glossy photos and grandiose headlines for each man. Her eyes settled on her father, the photo showing him with his trademark jacket and hands fisted at his hips. There was a confident smile about him, his head tilted down as if he was contemplating something serious and listening to every word you said. "Charming Sheriff Promises An Arresting Night," the headline read.

"Is your grandmother here?" she asked Henry, turning in place to look for the woman. Henry pointed in the direction of the lower bedroom. "Mom!"  
Mary Margaret emerged, holding a finger to her lips and pointing to the crib where the baby was sleeping. "Don't wake him up," she stage whispered. "What's going on?"

"Have you seen this?" Emma asked, waving the papers in front of her mother's nose. Mary Margaret stepped back to look at the document. "He didn't write this!"

"I should hope not," Emma said, pulling the pages back. "Special talent – sizing you up for handcuffs in less than five seconds. Turn-ons? Kissing a woman back to life and being hit in the head with hard objects. Favorite Hobby riding a horse with his strong thigh muscles and…long naps…" She saw her mother put a hand to her mouth to stifle a groan of disbelief. "It gets worse."

"Belle has Henry typing this in?" she asked, staring down in horror at her grandson. "He's not old enough to understand these things."

Henry remained silent, his gaze transferring between both women like a boy watching a tennis match. His grandmother snatched the papers out of his mother's hands and flipped through them with anger building. "I can't believe Red," she said hotly, her frown growing as she read of friends and loved ones being described in terms that would make most people blush. "My husband is listed as married, but open to new adventures." She made a quotation mark with her hand. "This is sick."

"Belle asked him to put this together," Emma pointed out. "I don't know that Ruby fully…"

"You think Belle wrote," Mary Margaret cleared her throat dramatically, "Captain Hook – A Man Built to Please a Woman on the Sea or the Land?"

"I can't…" Emma said, pushing the papers away as her mother tried to hand them back. "It's like those things you read in Playboy. Not that I ever read Playboy. I don't think anyone's ever actually read it. That's the joke I guess when people say they enjoy it for the articles." She tried to concentrate on what her mother was reading, but rather than get angry with Killian or Ruby, she found herself laughing at what was supposed to be this sensuous tease to get women to bid on him. "Oh God…I just sounded like Elsa's sister, Anna."

"His turn-ons include leather and chains," the brunette continued to read in a fake voice to make a point. "He enjoys rocking the boat – wink, wink."

"That's just bad writing," Emma said, shaking her head to the point that her blonde hair cascaded out of its clip. "Killian wouldn't say it that way. He'd use three or four syllable words that you'd need a dictionary to translate."

"Favorite hobby – knife and hook play," her mother recited, eyes wide and wild as she scanned the rest of the questions. "You'd be interested to know he is single and searching for that special sea worthy woman."  
Emma's laughter broke though. "I'm going to go get ready," she said. "Henry, tell Belle that you're too young to finish this project."

Killian arrived a few minutes later and Emma was sure that her mother or son would mention the catalog, but thankfully they didn't. Instead they resorted to make faces and mime certain actions behind him. Shooting a glare at Henry, she told him that helping Belle or not, he was expected in bed by his normal time.

"I've just got to get this online," he said, typing in a few codes and waving off his grandmother's attempts to edit the text. Emma glowered with dread.

***AAA***

Emma hated that sometimes her mind would wander at the most inopportune moments. For instance, when she stood in the stairwell at Granny's, her arms snaked around Killian's shoulders and his hand splayed on her hip. She should have been thinking of him or at least the excuse she would give of why she wasn't at home in her own bed. But no. Her mind was running with thoughts of the light bulb overhead that needed to be changed and how could someone balance a ladder on the stairs to take care of that task.

Her groan of frustration that she could not just enjoy the moment was interpreted by him as an invitation that he eagerly accepted. Thankfully the lighting and ladder situation left her thoughts as his lips brushed hers tasting, experimenting. When she was sure she would die from anticipation, he claimed her more fully, pulling at her lips with long, slow, torturous tugs. She moaned deep in her throat and melted into him. She was leaning into him, almost losing her balance on the uneven stairs that led to his room. He let out a slow, agonized groan as he sank his fingers into her hip, holding her to him as his tongue reached out to sweep inside her mouth. She trembled when she felt his tongue, a quake of longing and awakening. She touched her own tongue to his, met him, tangled with him, laved and played. It was a slow, sensuous fall that she was taking, drowning in sensations that were like sun warmed silk.

Gently, he pulled away from her, carefully easing his mouth from hers, keeping their bodies firmly adhered as he gentled then stopped the kiss. Tenderly, he smoothed her hair from her cheek, his breathing harsh as he looked down at her face. He saw her soft, hazy look and smiled. "I'd invite you in, but I know you would reject such a summons," he said.

Her own breathing was labored as she tried to remember why she would reject him. "Henry's at home tonight," she said, more to remind herself than him. "I've already been out too late."

He nodded his acceptance. "One of these days," he mumbled, a teasing smile on his lips.

She bit her lip, still not letting go of him and letting him retreat into the solitude. "Maybe for a few minutes," she said hesitantly. "I mean I'm already running late. What's a few more minutes?"

He didn't question her tentativeness, moving his hand to hers and pulling her along with him up the final few stairs. She'd been to his door before, knew the route of the dimly lit hallway past the old fashioned rooms that smelled of potpourri and dried flowers. She'd lived in the room just down from his before he even came to town, making it her home for a little while before she had been forced to leave.

He was smiling widely, his eyes trained on her and vice versa as the practically stumbled down the hallway without regard for the table adorning one wall or the umbrella stand next to the window. She worried for a minute that they might wake up the other residents after she stubbed her foot against the metal trashcan. Then he stopped short.

"What the hell is all that?" Emma asked, looking at the items outside his door. There were two flower arrangements, a few envelopes taped to the door, a bottle of wine and another of rum, and something that looked like a leather whip. "Killian?"

He approached it slowly, cautiously reaching his hand out as if it might be some sort of trap. She didn't ask his permission and followed, pulling off the first of the envelopes. A woman's bubbly and looping handwriting was scrawled on the page. Emma's eyebrows raised with inquisitiveness as she read first that note and then some of the others. Some of them were sweet and filled with hope that they would be the winner of him at the auction. 

Others were suggestive and some were down right raunchy. Emma had to hold her hand over her mouth to stop from waking the hallway when she found a picture of a mostly naked woman. "Should I be worried?" Emma asked when Killian held up one of the gifts.

He pulled her into his room, carrying in the gifts and placing them on the tall dresser by the door. "I've seen my share of wanton women before," he admitted. "Though most were that way to earn a living not to win anyone's heart."

Emma flashed the snapshot of the woman in front of his nose. "She's not after your heart," Emma said. "She's after something, but it ain't your heart."

He chuckled, pulling the photo from her hand and dropped it behind himself. "You're the only one I want to win my heart," he said. "Even if you don't bid the most for me."

***AAA***

Emma had some experience coming back late to the loft, even having learned which floorboards and steps to avoid in preventing anyone from being awoken by her entry. When the baby was still waking her parents up in the middle of the night for feedings and diaper changes, Emma had sometimes found one or both of them awake and ready to talk. It had been a while since that was a common occurrence so she was surprised to see her mother flipping through the dog eared copy of a book.

"Have a good time?" her mother asked, closing the book as Emma stepped into the low light of the living room. Emma was never sure how to answer that question, as this woman was her mother despite their lacking age difference. Did she want to hear about the longing in Emma to do more than just kiss her boyfriend? Did she want to know that Emma was beginning to run out of excuses? Did she want to know that the taste of Killian was something that she reveled in long after they said good night? Did she want to know that she had worn higher necked sweaters for the past few days because the bite marks and others had been more visible after a certain make out session? Did mothers and daughters talk about that stuff? Emma didn't know.

"What are you doing up?" Emma asked, opting to answer a question with a question.

"It's been busy around here," Mary Margaret said with a sigh.

Emma glanced toward the bedroom where she could see the outline of her father through the curtains that covered the doorway. "The baby?"

"No," her mother answered, presenting her hand to a stack of gifts much like Killian's entryway. "Henry got the website going and it seems that the women of Storybrooke are looking to…" she lifted the card of a tiny bouquet of flowers, "sample the merchandise before everyone gets their hands on it."

There was a flash of sympathy in Emma's eyes when her mother lifted a pair of furry handcuffs. "Three pair of these were delivered tonight," the brunette said. "I don't even know where you can buy these in Storybrooke."

"They know he's married to you," Emma protested. "They can't think…"

Her mother arched an eyebrow and tipped her head as if to say she couldn't believe her daughter was being that naïve. "One card said that I was welcome to watch. Seems that according to another one, they've all been waiting a long time for a real family man."

Emma groaned and sank down into the plush chair by the window. "The women in this town have gone too far," she said. "Killian's gifts included a whip. I don't even want to think…"  
"Killian and David can handle a little of this, but think about some of the others," her mother said. "Think about Archie? Imagine his face if he gets handcuffs or a whip. He'll need therapy and he's the only therapist in this town."

"You think that Killian and Dad can handle this?" Emma asked, her hand reached into her jacket and came back with a now crumpled photo of the partially naked woman. "You're married to dad, but what about Killian. These women think it's open season on him."

"Emma," her mother lowering her tone, "you can't think that Hook would be interested in such desperate attempts? He and David are too busy competing with each other to be anything but flattered by the attention."


	4. Chapter 3

With her wolf's sense of smell and hearing, Ruby could sense trouble a mile away and usually warned people about it. However, the trouble brewing at the small diner wasn't the usual type. There were no magic spells or curses cast. There were no villainous threats against the town or its residents. No, it was a matter of the women of Storybrooke being pit against each other for the sake of a charity auction.

"Any publicity is good publicity," she had said to Belle that afternoon during the lunch shift. Belle didn't seem to believe her.

To Ruby it meant that people were talking about the event, which meant people were making plans and wanting to participate. "I just hope they aren't wasting their money on trying to impress the guys so much that they are too broke to bid," Belle pointed out. "It's not like the men are the ones deciding anyway."

"I realize that," Ruby said, running her pencil across the schedule for the diner and confirming that she had enough help. "But the women seem to think that they need to impress the guys. So let them. It makes it more interesting."

Even the women who were angry about the whole thing were taking it well. She'd heard Emma and Mary Margaret laughing about the gifts that had been showing up, as well as commiserating with Aurora when David had convinced Phillip to join in too – just so he'd not be the only married man in auction. Ruby had told them that a little competition was good and that they had nothing to worry about.

Of all the women talking about the event, it was Granny who seemed the most annoyed. That was probably because Ruby's attention was split between the diner and the auction, often trying to multi-task. She was also annoyed by the numbers of women sneaking up the stairs to drop off gifts to some of the men renting rooms. When one of them had left out a box of chocolates, someone stepped on it and tracked the dark sweetness all up and down the halls. Granny was threatening to check the bottom of everyone's shoes.

"So do we have everything set?" Ruby asked again, looking at the check list that she and Belle had written. "Music and lights are taken care of, Granny's going to sell some snack items from the lobby, Marco has agreed to be our auctioneer, and you've agreed to keep track of the cash brought in for the day. I've written up a schedule for each of the men to be presented. What else is there?"

Belle raked her teeth over her lips and looked up toward the ceiling. "I'm attempting to picture it," she said. "Each man is announced one at a time or in their group. Do they just walk out and stand there?"

"What would you want them to do? Dance?" Ruby was puzzled by the idea. "They will do a runway walk to show off for the crowd. It'll let the ladies see and get more excited."

"You think that watching Little John walk is going to get people excited?" Belle asked. "I think you have more faith in our volunteers than I do."

Ruby pondered that for a moment and then slapped her hand down on the schedule forms triumphantly, skewing them from the impact of her hand. "They need practice," she declared. "And who better than Regina to provide it."

"Regina?"

Nodding emphatically, Ruby smiled. "You know she's the perfect one for it," she declared. "The woman walks around life like it is a fashion show. She can teach them about posture, poise, connecting with the crowd. It's perfect."

Disbelievingly, Belle scanned the list of names. "I don't know about that," she said. "Most of the people on this list…"

"Most of the people on this list want to avoid the embarrassment of low bids," Ruby explained, interrupting her friend's concern. "They are going to want to look their best and show everyone that they are worth a big bid. If a little walking lesson from Regina helps them look better, they'll be all for it. It's going to make the women go wild."

"I don't think we need them to get more excited," Mary Margaret said as she dramatically dropped a pair of the furry handcuffs in between the two women. "Fourth pair just arrived. Red, this needs to stop."

Ruby giggled as Belle picked up the offending gift and ran a finger slowly over the blue fur. "Have you tried them on him yet?" Ruby teased. "Might be fun."

Mary Margaret blushed and yanked them back to put in her purse. "I'm just saying that it is not exactly something I care to come home to every day. Bottles of wine, love poems, and these being left for my husband is disturbing."

"It's for charity," Ruby told her. "You have the least to worry about of all the women. David couldn't be more committed to you. He never even lets his eyes stray, let alone his body. Don't worry. It's just a fun evening to raise money for the children."

"Couldn't we have had a bake sale?" the short haired woman asked. "A car wash?"

With a hand on one hip Ruby huffed indignantly. "You think that you could get $100 or more for one of Regina's apple turnovers? I don't see people paying $500 for some soap on their car. This is going to be great. It'll raise a fortune. So you have to watch your husband get ogled by a bunch of lonely women. So what? He'll come home to you and you still have your happily ever after, but this way the kids have the books and supplies they need."

Belle kept her head down and lips pursed as she tried desperately not to smile at Mary Margaret's obvious distress. Ruby was right about one thing. The auction and all its controversy had distracted people from her plight. Nobody had even bothered with the sympathetic head tilt when they asked after her well-being.

"So if I complain then I'm the horrible monster who ripped education out of the hands of the children," the mother mused sarcastically. "I'm just supposed to let the women in town try to woo my husband."

"It's harmless," Ruby repeated.

Mary Margaret opened her mouth to reply when Emma breezed in a bit out of breath and holding her mother's phone. "I tried to call you, but you left your phone in my car," Emma announced, tossing the device into her hands. "You aren't going to believe the latest."

Belle craned her neck to turn and see Emma. "What?" she asked curiously. "Did someone hire a skywriter or a singing telegram?"

"Not so loud," Emma said with a laugh. "Don't give anyone any ideas. Some of the women were serenading a few of the dwarfs last night. I got two calls about disturbing the peace."

Mary Margaret, who had witnessed her daughter's late night calls to stop the women just shook her head. "What's happened now?" she asked.

"Someone called in a burglary in progress," Emma said, stepping closer to the three women to speak in a lower tone. "Dad goes to respond and Mrs. Potts tells him that it was a false alarm but that she'd packed a picnic basket for them. The old woman actually winked at him and tried to pinch him on the butt." Emma looked disgusted.

"Mrs. Potts has more life in her than I realized," Ruby said, nodding her head approvingly. "The old girl might just be a high bidder." She gestured to Belle to mark down that observation.

"Ruby!" Mary Margaret said loudly. "Really!"

"Oh calm down," Ruby said, restacking the schedule forms. "If you want to save David from the pinching fingers of the old woman, you'd better be ready to bid. I think he'll go for a high dollar." She turned quickly and headed toward the kitchen to post the new schedule. "Who knows what else you may need to protect him from."

"That's extortion," Emma said with a laugh. "I could arrest you for that." Ruby wasn't deterred and backed her way through the swinging door to the kitchen. Emma sat down at the counter, pulling out a menu and looking. "I should eat someplace else. Everything in me tells me to blame Ruby for this." She glanced at the entry into the hallway and sighed. "And another one?"

Her mother followed the gaze and gasped. "That woman is the same one I saw bringing cookies to David," she said, sounding every bit the teacher she had been for years. "What is she doing?"

"Looks like she has a cooler," Belle said, bending to look between mother and daughter. "Why would she have a cooler?"

"She looks like a transplant doctor carrying a vital organ," Emma said out of the side of her mouth. "Maybe she heard that Killian's heart was missing and decided to get him a new one. Yuck that was a bad joke."

"That's just creepy," Mary Margaret added, shuddering at the thought. "What is going on? I thought that this was supposed to be innocent fun in the name of charity. These women have turned it into something raunchy." Belle's eyes stayed trained on the woman until she disappeared from view and then she looked back down.

"Ruby may have added a little of the sex talk in hopes of bringing more interest to the event," Belle said lowly, keeping her eyes now on the kitchen door. "She said she wanted to add spice."

"I think she needs to stay out of the kitchen," Emma said, placing the menu back and standing up. "I'm going to go up there and tell that woman…"

"What?" Mary Margaret asked. "What are you going to tell her?"

"I don't know," Emma confessed, "but I can't just sit here and let this all happen around me."

***AAA***

David slammed the wrench down on the concrete, waving his hand as the skin reddened from the pinch he had felt. The father of two was leaning over the engine of the patrol car, his mouth against the webbing between his thumb and forefinger. "Damn it," he muttered. The car was older, several years past its prime, but according to Emma it should have several thousand miles left until they had to readjust the budget for a new one.

"Problem?" Killian asked, approaching the front of the station.

"It's been running a little rough lately and so I thought I'd take a look," David answered. "If you're looking for Emma, she's out responding to a traffic accident." The man glowered down at the exposed car parts with an angry eye. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about engines?"

"Not for a vessel such as that," Killian admitted, joining David in looking over the grease covered items. "I wouldn't know where to begin."

David waved his hand out again for good measure and then pointed to a spring near large bolt. "That's supposed to be attached to this other part over here," he said. "But I'm not quite sure how to make that happen."

Killian studied the scene before him for a minute, but did not risk his one remaining hand on the machine. "How did you come to that conclusion?" he asked, perplexed by the idea of automotive technology. "A book?" He leaned back and searched their surroundings with his eyes for some sort of text or manual that David might have been reading.

David looked a bit sheepish. "It was that way when I opened the hood," he admitted quietly.

"Aye," Killian answered with a lack of full understanding. "I'm afraid I cannot be of much assistance, but if you wish I could lend a hand. With your instruction of course."

Both men took a step back as David slammed the hood down and pulled his gloves out of his pocket. "I think I know when to admit defeat. I'll call Michael to take a look."

"That sounds as if it would be prudent," Killian answered, not taking the opportunity to say that it sounded as though the prince was giving up.

Both men were silent as they headed back toward the glass doors inside until they heard a loud crash. Spinning around, they spotted the source of the problem. David was also quick to note that Killian's hand immediately reached for the sword he no longer tethered to his waist. "Always a pirate," the man mumbled.

Across the road at the taller bank of buildings a sallow faced brunette was hurriedly gathering the broken remains of something into a gift bag. Her long strait hair hung down over her shoulders and hid her face as she leaned forward to clean up the broken item.

David chuckled and shook his head as he turned toward the baffled looking Killian. "She's been delivering presents and such to Archie," he explained. "Each time Archie is in with a patient she's brought over a bottle of wine, a teddy bear, or some wrapped bag or box."

Killian smiled. "Benefits of participating in this public sale?"

David watched the woman throw the bag back in her car and drive off, his own blood pressure rising in embarrassment that she must have felt. "I'm sure you're getting gifts too," David laughed. "Emma mentioned something about a shrine outside your room."

Killian's eyes rolled as David smirked. "And I have heard about your new collection of handcuffs," he countered. "I had no idea that the women of Storybrooke were so blatant with their desires." He pushed the door open for the other man as David lugged the small tool box back inside. "They have demonstrated very little restraint."

David shot the dark haired man a look. "I don't know who thought this was such a great idea," he seemingly confessed. "I joined just to prove a point, but the women are vicious. Did you know that Mrs. Potts set it up so I responded to a burglary call today only to find her with a blanket, oysters, and a bottle of wine? When I told her I was on duty and not interested in furthering the conversation, she pinched my butt. Hard too. I'm probably bruised." He rubbed his hand on his right rear cheek. "It's getting out of hand."

"I don't need to see the proof," Killian responded. "Did you tell your wife about that one?"

Shaking his head no, David returned the tool kit and punched a few buttons on the phone to have the calls transferred back. "Mary Margaret has been great about this," he said. "I wasn't so sure she'd feel that way, but she's secure enough to realize that I'm not interested in some fling. It's about the charity."

"Right," Killian answered, settling back into the chair at Emma's desk. "A good cause at our expense. You're not the only one with physical altercations, mate."

"Do I even want to know?" David asked, sitting at his own desk and turning the chair to face Killian. "Because if you are about to confess that you've cheated on Emma, I'm not the one to hear it. I'd have to kill you. Emma would have to arrest me. It would be a big mess for her to lose you and lock me up in the same day. So I'd rather avoid it."

"I wouldn't be so daft as to put you in that position," Killian announced as though swearing an oath. "And I hardly think there would be a woman worth the pain I would suffer at your daughter's hands."

"Just so we're clear."

"Aye, so as I was saying, one lass was trying to break into my room while I was bathing," he said with a redness growing on his cheeks. "I heard the noise and opened the door to find her on her knees with a hair pin in her hand. And one lass broke a window in my room trying to deliver a gift of rum. Granny called upon Emma to have the woman arrested and charged me for the damage. Emma was questioning her when she begged to be allowed to present me with the bottle. I dare say that she could have used it herself after the lecture Emma delivered to her." He chuckled lowly and ducked his head. "You don't suppose it will get worse as the time draws nigh?"

Folding his arms over his chest, David considered that for a moment. "It might be bad luck to say it won't," he said. "Have you had the group of women come serenade you yet?"

"No," Killian said, laughing again. "Prince Phillip received such a wake-up call this week, as did the dwarfs, I believe."

"Little John and the Married Men, as well," David said. "They seem to making the rounds. I do worry that if they show up at the loft and wake up the baby that Snow might just snap. She still keeps her bow and arrow under the bed." David opened the lower drawer of his desk and pulled out a bag of homemade cookies that one woman had dropped off at the station for him. Pulling one out, he passed the bag to Killian. "I can't drink on the job, but we could enjoy these."

Reaching in, Killian grabbed one too and bit off a bit of it with a smile. "Your wife know you're keeping these things here? Emma has been reluctant to let any of the gifts remain in my possession. She took these cookies and gave them to her boy Henry to take to his school chums. I didn't enjoy a single one."

"My wife is more worried about the handcuffs," he said, eyes dancing with soon to be erupted laughter. "I hear Emma found photographs of a woman? I'm sure she didn't react well to that."

Remembering the look on Emma's face, Killian tilted his head with his ear almost touching his shoulder. "She didn't take too kindly to it," he said, rubbing his lips together. "Thankfully it was only the one and no more have arrived. I don't relish the thought of explaining to your daughter these women's advances toward me any more than you wish to explain it to your wife."

***AAA***

"This isn't a good time," Regina Mills said as she opened the door to the two women. "I am in the middle of something."

"It's important," Belle said, her high-heeled foot sliding out to prevent the door from being closed. "Please."

Ruby nodded. "It's for the school and the town," she added. The two women had argued over which of them would go to the former Evil Queen to ask for her help in the matter of training the men for the auction. Neither wanted to do it alone.

"I'm not the mayor any longer," Regina reminded them, still not opening the door fully to allow them entrance to her home. "Why don't you go visit Mary Margaret with your request?"

Belle felt her resolve weaken a bit, but Ruby's voice rang out clear. "Because we need you," she insisted. "You're going to help us. Even if you're not mayor, you've got a kid in the school."

The regal woman looked carefully at both of them, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. It had been a while since anyone had sought her out for her assistance, as most either feared or despised her. She was rarely at the top of anyone's list for social calls. "You have three minutes," she said, opening the door to them. "I will be timing you."

"Great," Ruby said, pulling Belle by the arm as they walked into the modern and stylish home. "It's about the auction."

"I've heard about it," Regina said to hurry the conversation along. "I'm not a man so I don't think you're here to recruit me to participate. And I'm not interested in buying myself a date." She wrinkled her nose and sat primly on the couch. "I do have standards."

"Yes," Belle said after a nudge from Ruby. "You have wonderful standards and style. Everyone sees it and appreciates how you are just effortless with it." Her eyes darted to Ruby to confirm that was what she was supposed to say. "We need your help with that."

"I doubt you are asking for fashion advice," Regina said suspiciously.

"No," Ruby said. "Not fashion. We were hoping you could work with the men on their stage presence. You see there are some participating in the show who are, well, not quite confident. They aren't going to project the right image for the event. No woman is going to bid on a man who slouches and shuffles his way on stage."

"And the point?"

Belle and Ruby silently conversed with their eyes until Ruby spoke again. "We want you to give the guys some lessons," she said. "You know, walking, posture, poise, that stuff. You do that stuff like the queen you were. You're a natural at it."

"You want me to give the men of Storybrooke lessons on how to walk like a queen?"

***AAA***

"Are you still trying to work on the purchase requests?" Emma asked her mother, curling her legs up under her as she sat on the couch. The two women were alone in the loft with the baby, David having said he was going to catch up on a few items at the station after dinner. Punching out a few buttons on the television remote, Emma called out to her mother. "Whatever it is, put it aside. I've got popcorn. I've got wine and beer. And we've got movies to watch. Let's go!"

Mary Margaret slammed her purple calculator down on the table and stretched her arms over her head. "I could use the break," she said with a yawn and then a frown at the yellow legal pad in front of her.

"Everything okay?" Emma asked her, putting the bowl of popcorn beside her. "Nothing too earthshattering, right?"

Mary Margaret looked back at the table and frowned again. "Don't you dare tell your father, but I was looking at our accounts," she said. "I wanted to see how much I could afford to bid."

Emma's hair flew as she twisted to look at her mother accusingly. "I thought we said we weren't bidding on them?" she said. "I thought we said we were going to trust them and let them do this as a way to have fun and give back. I thought we said we weren't going to be those kind of women."

"That was before one of the women sent her underwear to David with a note about hoping he wasn't too gentle." Mary Margaret growled as she thought of finding the red lace item on the door handle. "I don't want my husband spending any time alone with that kind of woman." She sounded quite emphatic as she threw a handful of popcorn in her mouth and chased it with the red wine her daughter had poured. "I don't care how it makes me sound. I won't allow it."

Emma rescued a throw pillow that had fallen to the floor. "I'm kind of glad you said that," she admitted, her cheeks turning a lighter shade of the wine's rosy hue. "The inside of my mouth is going to bleed if I have to bite my tongue one more time over the phone calls and messages that Killian's been getting. I know we're just dating and that we aren't…whatever. But those women!" She flung herself against the back of the couch. "I trust him. It's them I don't trust. They've been trying to break in his room. That's not normal."

Mary Margaret almost looked proud of her daughter, the pride evident in the small smile shining on her face as she took another sip of wine. "Oh how the mighty have fallen," she said, eyebrows raised and her shoulders going up. "Little Miss Nothing's Going On is a little…"

"Don't say jealous," Emma said. "I don't know what I am, but it really sucks." Taking a sharp intake of breath, she scrolled through some of the choices on the television screen.

"Emma," her mother said evenly, her composure a little better when she was talking about someone else. "I know that you hate feeling out of control. Everyone does, but you really hate it. And this isn't just about trusting Killian not to hurt you. I think you know that he's not going to do that over this stupid auction."

Emma reached across the table and grabbed the bottle, pouring another glass and then holding the glass so hard that she worried she might break it. "I don't have the right to feel this way," she said. "I don't have the right to consider him anything more than a guy I'm dating. We're not married. We've never really talked about any of this except that we enjoy the time we spend together. Most of those conversations turn into us kissing and making out like teenagers getting everything in before curfew. So I don't really feel like I can tell him to ignore all these women."

Mary Margaret placed the popcorn bowl on the table in front of them and put her arm around her daughter's shoulder. To her surprise, Emma leaned into the embrace and accepted it without pulling away or stiffening her stance. The brunette took it one more step, pulling her daughter down so that she lay her head in her mother's lap. Gently combing her fingers through Emma's hair, she finally spoke. "It's okay to feel confused and insecure. It's a sign that you're human."

"A weak human," Emma muttered.

"We are all weak when it comes to love," Mary Margaret lamented. "We do stupid things. We make fools of ourselves. We spend money on auctions to keep them. We wear shoes that are way too painful and clothing that's too tight."

Emma rolled onto her back, looking up at the concerned expression of her mother. "Do you think I'm prickly?"

"Like a cactus?"

"It's something that Elsa said," Emma sighed. "This is going to sound stupid, but I don't know how to be like them…I don't know how to be flirty and fun loving. I don't know how to give gifts and compliments without looking or sounding like an idiot."

"You're being hard on yourself," Mary Margaret answered, her hand resting half on her forehead and half on her scalp. "I don't think that any of those things matter to Killian. He seems to like you whether you are prickly or flirty."

"That doesn't make this any easier," Emma said. "But I'll pull up my big girl panties and move on. Maybe I'll make it through this."

"So dramatic," her mother said with a laugh. "I'm not much better though. I'm five seconds from clipping coupons so I can afford to buy a date with my husband."

Emma groaned. "That's pretty bad, but I can do you one better. I was about to look up a loan officer at the bank to see if I could get some cash to buy Killian at the auction."

"Like I said, love makes you do some crazy things," the woman said with a sigh. "So we have a choice. We watch this movie or we work together to come up with a plan to keep our men to ourselves."

Emma closed her eyes, mulling over the option in her mind. "I'm going to regret this," she said resolutely. "But let's start our plan."


	5. Chapter 4 - For me?

Archie Hopper stumbled over the curb, catching himself at the last moment before he tumbled sprawling on to the sidewalk. It was graceless move that had happened to him a few times when Pongo pulled too hard at the leash and he struggled to keep up. But with all the attention being focused on the men of Storybrooke, he felt as though the eyes of judgment were upon him. With an early morning patient coming in, he was glad that the patient would not have to find him lying motionless on the sidewalk.

He stuttered stepped toward the door to his practice, trying to keep his Dalmatian in place by straddling Pongo and reaching into his pocket for the keys. It was an awkward position and that may have been why he did not see the wrapped gift that Pongo was sniffing at determinedly. "What have we here?" he asked, using a single finger to push his glasses up on his nose. Somehow he managed to wrangle both the dog, the package and himself inside the shabby but warm office.

Pongo immediately settled himself on the lumpy pillow beside Archie's desk, circling twice before curling into a ball and watching the movement on the other side of the room. The therapist dropped his keys on the desk and peeled back the wrapping on the gift with some interest. He had heard about the embarrassment of items that Killian and David were receiving. Someone had even sent a horse and carriage to transport Will Scarlett around town so that he could avoid walking so far or highly priced cabs. So far Archie had had a few trinkets. There was a cheap bottle of wine, a hand written poem that upon discussion he found out had been delivered to most of the men, a fish bowl with two goldfish, an oversized cupcake with chocolate icing, a ceramic bust of someone he doesn't even know, and now whatever this was that he was unwrapping. The paper gave no clue to its contents, but his immediate thought was pork chops.

He could see the light on his phone indicating there were messages on his voicemail that would need to be answered, but he was too curious to find out about the present. Ripping off the rest of it, he laughed at the bag of dog treats he found inside with a post-it note attached reading if one wants to get to the master, one must first win the heart of the dog.

***AAA***

David regretted his decision to work late the night before, as it was his turn to work the early shift the next day. He needed coffee just to get him motivated enough to finish getting ready, which was why he was groggily sitting in the kitchen when his daughter climbed down the stairs early the next morning. It was a surprising sight since Emma hated to get up early in the morning just like the rest of his family. They might be great leaders and trackers who found their loved ones and never gave up, but they were not morning people.

"Emma?" he asked, as she stood on the last step and adjusted the strap on a pair of black high heels. She was not wearing her standard skinny jeans and sweater that he had come to call her uniform, but instead his grown daughter was wearing a form fitting black dress with the heels adding to her already long legs. Her blonde hair was always waved around her shoulders or sometimes pulled into a soft pony tail, but that morning it was carefully coifed with bouncing soft curls that framed her face.

"I didn't know you were up yet," she said, her eyes flying open in surprise.

"Early shift," he said, explaining his presence but more curious about hers. "Can I ask about the outfit? Are you just getting home or…"

Emma bit her lip and reached up a hand to her earring. "I just wanted to look nice," she said, offering a tentative smile that did not fully explain. "I…"

David shut his eyes against the dangling overhead light and sighed. "Why do I have a feeling this has something to do with Hook?"

Emma shrugged and reached for the coffee pot to pour herself a cup, groaning when there was only enough for barely half a mug. "I meet him for breakfast almost every day," she said casually. "Is it wrong for me to want to look like I put some time into my appearance rather than the normal way I look in the morning? I usually dress for work and comfort. I'm just trying to look nice today."

"No," David said hesitantly. "But why the sudden change? You don't think he'll ask you why?"

Finishing off the little bit of coffee her father had left her, she placed the mug in the sink and ran water in it. She turned to face her father, running her hand over the material of her dress and frowned. "I was hoping he would like the way I look," she answered honestly.

David watched her grab her jacket from beside the door and slip it over her shoulders. "He seems to be appreciative of you no matter what you're wearing," David answered, not cracking a smile. "This is about the auction, right?

Emma blushed, but she continued to struggle on with her jacket and turned back to her father as he drew a breath to ask another question. Tapping her finger on the tip of her nose, she smiled back at him. "See you at work," she said, slipping out the door and into the hallway.

As she pulled up in front of Granny's, her confidence was fading a little more. The patrons of the diner were already arriving in their work cloths and coats, making her feel as if she was going to stand out from the crowd. Her teeth worried over her painted lip and she gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter. "Get it together, Emma," she chided herself as she looked at the steam covered windows. "You've got this."

Standing up from the car, she smoothed the dress down on her legs and flipped her hair over her shoulders to an appreciative catcall from somewhere behind her. She was not sure who that was or even if she wanted to know, but it did give her a bit of a boost as she pointed her shoes toward the diner and began her walk inside. Just like clockwork Killian was there, his ritual of gathering their morning drinks on track as he leaned into the counter and instructed the waitress to add the cinnamon to Emma's mug. He usually had them ready and waiting for her each morning, letting them have a few leisurely moments before they ate and then parted ways for the day.

Emma slipped the jacket down off her shoulders and let a smile play on her lips as she saw him, the tips of his hair still damp from his morning shower and that look she had come to associate with his pride over an accomplishment evident even from across the room. She wanted him to turn and see her, surprised at her effort and happy that she had made it for him. But such a dream was shattered when a woman she recognized from the seafood place by the docks approached the counter and rested her hand on Killian's lower back. Her hand sitting just above his belt, the woman leaned forward toward his ear and said something to him.

Emma stood motionless in the middle of the diner's entry way, her jacket still dangling from her arms. Killian did not seem to flinch or be surprised by the woman's hand or her words, simply nodding and saying something to the waitress that Emma could not hear. She was not sure how long she watched the woman lean toward him, her chest rubbing against his arm and a pitchy giggle ringing out as he responded to her with some short statement.

"Emma," Ruby said loudly over the commotion of the morning. "Shut the door, would you? You're letting in the cold."

Killian spun around to face her, his face breaking into the grin she had hoped earlier to illicit. She could even hear him call her Swan, but all she could see was the woman now behind him who had not even shown the decency to slink away to wherever she came from and admit defeat. Emma finished removing her jacket and slung it over the chair at the table Killian had saved for them, still saying nothing to him or the woman watching them. Emma crossed past the other tables to the counter and in a move that Ruby would later refer to as nothing short of predatory. She used both of her hands to yank Killian toward her with the collar of his jacket and crashed her lips to his possessively. She may have growled and bit his lip in her actions, trying to communicate with him where words would surely have failed her.

When she managed to pull away from him, she could not help but notice the darkness in his blue eyes that seemed more like swirling whirlpools that morning than the bright orbs of the sky she usually saw. "That's quite a good morning," he rasped, attempting to straighten himself up as she moved back to her seat at the table.

Ruby brought them both their mugs and looked at them admonishingly. "Are you going to toss him over your shoulder and carry him upstairs?" she asked, poking Emma's shoulder with a long finger. "Because I think you just made your point."

The woman who had been talking to Killian earlier was back at her own table with a menu and a glass of water that she gulped furiously. Her friend, who was stealing glances over at Emma, patted the other woman's arm affectionately and sympathetically. Emma tried to hide the smile on her lips.

After Ruby retreats to another table, Killian smirked at Emma as she read over the menu like she was going to order something different. "Did I miss something, love?" he asked. "You are acting a bit odd this morning?"

"It's odd for me to want to kiss you hello?" she asked innocently. "I didn't realize I was that cold to you."

He chuckled, watching her playfully smile over the laminated menu. "And your attire is quite lovely, but not what I expect to see you in so early in the morning," he continued. "I'm not sure I understand the reason for the change, but I'm indebted to whomever or whatever encouraged it. Would you care to explain?"

Emma ran her finger over the handle of her mug of hot chocolate and grinned. "Is it a bad thing that I wanted to look nice for my boyfriend?" she asked, cringing inwardly that she probably sounded like a high school girl wanting acceptance. Thankfully he just smiled back in return.

"Boyfriend?" he questioned. "Is that what I am?"

Her brows furrowed as she realized that she had just said the word, not meaning to have that conversation. They were in the midst of a diner during an early morning rush, hardly a romantic or private setting for a conversation about where they were going or what to call each other in their relationship. "Well," she began slowly, feeling his eyes on her. "I don't know what exactly to call you. We're dating and we're together. I hate labels, but I think that kind of fits. I mean…This isn't the place for this conversation. Can we postpone it?"

He looked amused, which she admitted to herself was very annoying. Here she was addressing what had gone unsaid for weeks now and he looked like he might laugh at her. She sincerely hoped that he could not see the blush on her cheeks that she knew was there from the heat she felt. "It's quite a title, love," he said, sipping from his own mug.

***AAA***

The young reporter was fumbling with her phone to use as a recorder, her fingers swiping across the screen. David sat back in his chair and watched her, his boot tapping on the floor impatiently.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Nolan," she said. "I'll be ready in a moment."

He looked back at the computer on his desk and frowned with the thought of the number of citations still left to enter. Emma had already done hers and not so subtly reminded him that he had to do his share. "Take your time," he lied. This was not something he was particularly used to, but Ruby had begged him to do the interview to build publicity for the auction. David had argued that there was no need for more, as everyone knew about it.

"So what made you want to participate in the auction?" the reporter asked him.

"It's a good cause and sounds like a fun time," he said easily. "That's always a good combination."

"And so you don't find it demeaning?" the woman asked. "I mean the website, the betting on who will bring in the most money, the innuendos and people trying to gain your attention. That all sounds like it is going a bit far."

David laughed, hoping it sounded carefree. "It's good to see the people of this town excited about this event," he said. "It's just all in good fun. The women who have been most excited about it have been great. It's been flattering."

The reporter nodded and paused before her next question. "How does it feel at the top of the leaderboard?"

"Excuse me?"

She shuffled the papers in her hands, looking over them carefully before she spoke again. "Some of the guys at the Rabbit Hole were bored the other night and decided to determine the odds. You and Killian Jones are obviously in the lead in terms of who thinks you'll raise the most money," she explained. "But I believe you took the lead by a small percentage. Seems that someone declared that they plan to open your bidding at $1,000. Seems like a lot of money to watch a movie with you."

David's mouth dropped in surprise. He wanted to ask who had made such a statement, but then he thought he might want to know the person's identity. As he struggled to find the words to answer, the door from the lobby of the station flung open and his grandson darted inside. "Is Mom here?" Henry demanded to know. "Where is she?"

"Why are you not at school?" David answered with his own question.

The boy's face was red from the wind outside and his backpack flapped behind him, unfastened and threatening to lose the notebooks and papers inside. "Where is Mom?" he asked again, ignoring his truancy in favor of finding Emma.

"She'll be in a little bit," David answered, holding up a hand to the reporter and spoke to her next. "Give me a moment, please. This is my grandson and obviously he's in need of a reminder that he needs to be in school."

Henry threw the bulging backpack on his mother's desk and placed his hands on his hips. "I'm not leaving until I talk to her."

David closed his eyes briefly and wondered if Emma had been as doggedly stubborn as Henry at that age. He'd seen video of her and a few pictures she had been able to share. She'd told him of how hard her life had been and how her usual solution was to run, but hearing of her life and experiencing Henry's were two different things. "What's going on?" he asked, trying to keep his voice on an even keel. "What's happened? Is it Regina? Did something happen at school?"

Henry let out a loud laugh. "School?" He looked annoyed and scared at the same time. "You mean the Storybrooke Home of the Charming and Hook fan club? Every girl in school – Ava, Grace, the twins, Marie, Erika, Danielle, all of them have printed the pictures of you guys off the Internet and plastered them in their lockers. It's all they talk about." Taking a deep breath, Henry attempted to sound like he was talking in a falsetto voice. "Charming has the best butt. Hook's got the best eyes. Charming's got arms that are to die for. Hook's got the best hair."

David stood with his mouth gaping and saw the reporter's eyes bug at Henry's description of the school situation. "Henry," David said, chuckling nervously. "It can't be that…"

"That bad?" Henry said. "You think those psychos dropping off presents in the middle of the night are nutso? I can tell you about nuts. The 13 year old girls in my class are nuts. They are writing their names with your last name. One of them edited a photo of herself and Killian together. And I won't tell you which one wants to find a way to get a tattoo of your face and name, but they told her she was too young. Do you know how weird that is? Then there are the questions." The boy dropped into his mother's chair. "I'm going to have to see Dr. Hopper again."

***AAA***

Leroy sat slumped over the newspaper, his hat pulled down tightly over his head as he watched one of the Merry Men accept a free lunch from some anonymous woman. While the constant feeling of being watched and judged was annoying, the man did admit that the free lunches and drinks at the Rabbit Hole were a nice perk.

"Regina will be mighty angry if you walk like you're sitting now," the Merry Man ironically named Little John said as he joined his co-volunteer. Clearing his throat he attempted to sound like the former mayor. "Remember the invisible string is attached to your spine and the ceiling. It is pulling you up to own your height."

"Regina can go to…" his voice dropped off as two of the school children scampered past with their parents. "When I volunteered for this I had no clue what we were going to have to go through."

"I thought we'd go up on stage. The women would place their bids. We'd have a nice day or evening together and that would be that." The larger man leaned forward to confide in the small man. "But it's gotten to be a problem. At least you have a locking door. I live in a tent. There's not a lock on a tent."

Leroy considered it for a moment and then shook his head in disgust. "Not to mention that guys like us are going to get the leftovers."

"The left overs?" John asked him, looking about for an available waitress since none had arrived.

"Charming and Hook are going to have the women spending money like crazy. Thankfully they only allow each man to have one winning bidder. Otherwise guys like us would be left in the cold." Leroy waved the folded newspaper in frustration. "We'd end up bidding on each other just to avoid the shame of going home alone after we put ourselves out there."

Little John considered that as he ordered a hamburger and fries from the waitress. "Any suggestions how we change this?" he asked. "I didn't sign up to be embarrassed."

Leroy grunted as he shrugged. "You got me," he said. "I'm not exactly an expert on how women's minds work." He looked down at the newspaper and squinted at the headline. "Maybe we should read some of those women's magazines. They might offer us a clue. I bet Belle has some at the library."

Little John stroked as his beard as he considered the conundrum, spotting Will Scarlett across the restaurant from them. Calling out to him, the man grudgingly joined the other two.

"Have you never heard of private lunch?" he asked, putting his plate in front of him at the new table. "I might have had something important going on there."

"You might have," John agreed, "but I doubt it. Leroy and I were discussing the auction. We're afraid that guys like us won't be very successful."

"You're lumping me in with you bloody gits?" Will asked, breaking off a piece of the bread and running it through the sauce on his place. "I'm more likely to bring in money that the both of you combined."

Leroy tried to look offended, his eyes opening wide in preparation for some easy rebuke. None came to mind. "Fine," he said. "Do you have an idea though?"

"Simple," said Will. "The women in this town have been trying to get your attention and the attention of any bloke who has gotten himself roped into this mess. Turn it around the lasses. Give them some of the same attention and they'll be remembering you come auction time."

Big John chewed on the burger that had just arrived for him, lifting a fry that he waved for emphasis. "That's not a bad idea," he said with a nod. "We don't have to woo all of them, just the ones we want to impress."

"So we flirt and get these women interested enough to vote on us?" Leroy asked. "That still means we have to compete though."

Will gave an exasperated sigh. "Planning ahead," he said, thumping the dwarf known as Grumpy in the head. "We all pick which we want and then we focus our efforts on that one. Each man for himself."

***AAA***

Killian watched Emma at her desk for a good 30 seconds before she even knew he'd arrived. She'd just hung up her phone when he walked through the door, balancing the device between her ear and her shoulder as she tied back the long blonde curls. Gone was the dress and heels, replaced by a more Emma like outfit. He'd run into David a little bit earlier down by the park, as the grandfather had taken his grandson for a walk to talk about something that was troubling the boy.

When she looked up from her notebook, she grinned at him. "I guess I should be embarrassed after this morning," she said, folding the corner of the page she was on down to mark her place. "You probably think I'm pretty immature."

He sat against the edge of her desk, the smirk on his face never faltering. "I believe the dress you wore was evidence that you are fully mature," he said.

Her nose wrinkled as she squinted her eyes up at him. "Not the point," she admonished lightly. "I wasn't talking about physically mature. I'm talking about the fact that I'm a grown woman with a basically teenage child who started to have a conversation with a centuries year old man about whether or not I could call him my boyfriend." She gave a mock shudder. "I can promise you that there are no articles in Cosmo or any other such magazine that would condone what I did."

"Emma, I don't think any less of you for calling me by a title that I would like to have," he said. "At least I suppose I would." Head cocked to the side and his hand rubbing at the back of his neck, he smiled at her roguishly.

"You don't know if you would?" she asked. "I thought you were a man who knows what he wants."

"I certainly do," he said, agreeing with her. "Perhaps I'm just not sure of the true meaning of the word boyfriend. Would you could enlighten me? I should think it was a pleasant title except that you are so hesitant about it. Is it something horrid?"

She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. "This is why we need alcohol in this office," she said. "I told you at breakfast that it just slipped out. People refer to us that way. Haven't people said that I'm your girlfriend?"

"Aye," he replied, scooting over a bit so that his legs brushed up against hers in the seated position. "Should I have been offended by the term?"

Emma's eyes turned skyward as she tried to come up with a definition. "A boyfriend is a term that people use for a guy they are dating," she said, swallowing hard. "So in that way it fits."

He nodded, smiling again as she fidgeted. "So if it is a fitting moniker for me, why does it trouble you?"

She bit her lip, drumming her fingers on her arms as she watched his eyes seem to glow with the question. "Because it can mean more," she said, spitting out the words as though they hurt her to say them. "A boyfriend is a guy you're dating and it's usually a little more serious than just casual hanging out."

The words turned over in his head, as her terms often required him a little contemplation. "So it is like a beau?" he asked.

"Yes," she laughed. "That would be the old fashioned term for it."

His smile was back. "I should think I'd find that to be a flattering term of endearment," he said. "Though it is a bit belittling to reduce a man to a name with the word boy in it."

"Would you rather I call you my man friend?" she asked teasing back. "Because when I hear that I think of a dog."

"You may call me whatever you wish, love," he winked. "I am more interested why you were so troubled by the term. If it is merely a name assigned to me because we spend time together, I don't see the problem." He mimicked her stance with his arms across the chest, leaning back in a relaxed and casual way.

"It's not the name," she said, tensing again and losing that teasing edge to her voice. "It's that we have to have a talk to call each other those things. I hate those talks. I avoid those talks. I run away from those talks."

"Sounds like a dreadful talk," he laughed. "And what would we be conversing about?"

She rolled her head back on her neck and then whipped it forward to look at him. "Sometimes I think you know the answer to all this and just want to see me struggle," she accused. "You like seeing me get embarrassed."

"You do look lovely in red," he said as his hand reached out to her, his fingers running along the side of her warming face. "Alas, no, I don't know what you are talking about. I'm trying to understand and know why this seems to upset you so much." His face grew serious. "It bothers me that you are struggling with a name."

"It's not the name," she repeated, this time with a strong frown. "A boyfriend is more than just a guy a girl dates. It's more of a commitment thing. Something that says we're kind of dating exclusively. We've never really talked about that and I guess I was worried that maybe I jumped the gun and was forcing you into talking about this." She half whined and half moaned in discomfort. "I'm probably scaring you at this point. You're probably thinking I'm about to propose marriage or something. Can we just forget it? Can we just go back to whatever it was we've been doing? Please."

He watched scowl at herself, the distress of her mortification unmistakable on her face. "You may call me by any name you like," he assured her. "And as to the talk you seem to be so worried over, we can do that later if you wish. I wasn't aware of such a formality, but if you think there is one, I will oblige."

She smiled somewhat gratefully, noting that his own smile seemed soft and kind as he looked at her. That was until he dropped his hand from cupping her cheek to grab his cell phone and check what appeared to be a text message. "Killian?" she asked, eliciting only a distracted hum of acknowledgement. "Who sent you a message?"

"Just someone from the diner," he said, shoving the phone back in his pocket to face her now curiously irritated face. "It is bad form to take a message while I am with you, I'm guessing. I apologize for the breach."

"Yes, it is," Emma said. "I'm going to hate myself for asking this, but I have to do it." She seemed to be steeling herself up for a battle, taking in her breath and squaring off her shoulders to face him. "Are you seeing other women?" she asked, quickly dismissing her obvious fear with another statement. "It's okay if you are, I'm just wondering. I mean we spend most evenings and mornings together so I don't know when you would find the time, but…"

"Is that what this is about?" he asked, quirking his eyebrow up in surprise and wonder. "Love, I'm not interested in spending time with anyone other than you. I have not so much as considered courting anyone other than yourself since I realized my affection was toward you alone." He couldn't help noticing that she breathed out a sigh of relief and then returned to her panicked eye state. "Is it allowed for me to ask you the same question?"

Emma smiled, but the blush on her cheeks was back. "I'm only dating you," she said with a nervous laugh that almost sounded like a giggle. "With as often as we see each other, I'm not exactly overflowing with free time here."

He regarded her for a moment longer, enjoying the sight of her actually being amused and embarrassed at the same time. "Is that the only reason?" he playfully asked. "Is it simply a matter of scheduling that keeps you with me?"

"I might have some feelings," she said. "But that is another conversation all together. We really don't want to have that one in the middle of this station with my father due back any moment with my son who appears to be scarred for life over this auction thing.

Killian laughed as she described what David had told her about the girls at school and laughed even harder when she said he was in the same league as a boy band member. "So does this knowledge help in your decision of what to call me, love?" he probed.

Shifting her pursed lips to one side, she broke into another laugh. "I think it just might," she said. "But I guess I better move fast, you're attracting a lot of attention with this auction."

It was his turn to be embarrassed with his face losing its staggering confidence. His convention of scratching behind his ear returned. "Does it bother you that much?" he asked. "To be honest I'm a bit thrown off by it all. I've had my experiences with women of all types before, but the women in this realm are more boisterous with their attempts."

Emma frowned. "I didn't realize that the women in Storybrooke were going to get quite this crazy about all," she said. "Ruby and Belle can find the humor in it, but they aren't getting women's undergarments like my father or pictures of half-naked women like you. I will be glad when it is over and we can go back to normal."

"Are you," he began to ask, taking his finger and pressing it to the tip of her nose, "telling me that you might be jealous?" The smile on his face grew as she became flustered.

"No," she answered a bit too fast. "I'm just concerned for your safety. These women are becoming quite bold."

"Love, I'm not in any danger," he said, shaking his head disbelieving that she was really concerned about such a thing. "You have to expect some level of this when a devilishly handsome pirate is a part of the auction. Your jealousy is perfectly natural as well."

"No," she announced defensively. "I'm not jealous. I'm just annoyed…" Her voice was cut off by the chirping cell phone in his pocket. His smiled faded as he pulled it out again, studying it carefully and replace it. "Okay," she said as she watched the scene unfold again, "who is texting you?"

"No one, love," he said. "You were telling me how you weren't jealous of the women's attempts to woo me." The smile was back, as were arched eyebrows and crinkled nose.

She lunged forward, reaching into his pocket to a gasping protest. "Let's see what you're hiding," she said, pulling the phone out of his reach. She ran her thumb across it and stared at the waiting text messages. Pain and disappointment crossed her features. "You, Killian Jones, can shove this phone and your little text messages where the sun doesn't shine." Opening the door leading to the lobby, she waved her arm and pointed. "You need to leave now."

A/N: Don't hate me for adding the angst. I promise to fix it. Thanks again for reading. I love to read what you're thinking.


	6. Ready or Not

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for coming back after the angst and cliffhanger. I know that chapter wasn’t as fun as the others. I hope to make up for it here and in the next chapter. Just so that you are aware of where I’m going, there will be 3-4 more chapters probably – unless I really go off the rails again.

Belle knocked on the door to Archie’s office, her bright yellow bag slung on her shoulder. He’s said he would meet her there are 4, but at 3:58 his door was locked and she was wondering where he was instead of at the appointment. She wasn’t big on this idea of a therapist, having seen a few so-called mental health professionals in her days locked under the hospital. Archie had been kind about it though, telling her that she could stop by just to chat and to use him as a sounding board.

Her knuckles rapped on the door again, as if he might have materialized inside during the short interlude between knocks. She wasn’t sure what she should do, as who is that desperate for the chance to talk for 50 minutes that they bang down the door of their therapist.

“I’m sorry, Belle,” Archie said from behind her. “I took Pongo home and it just took longer than expected. Why don’t you come in?”

The taller man brushed past her and unlocked the door. Pushing it open, he stood awkwardly as he waved her in, somewhat glad there were no anonymous gifts left in the entryway.

“You said on the phone that you wanted to chat?” he half said and half questioned. “Is there anything I can do? I realize that your marital issues are probably foremost on your mind now.”

She looked about the room and smiled at the cluttered but homey space. There were books, lots of books, which was always a good sign to her. There were also notebooks that she could tell were well used, files neatly stacked and mail unopened yet neatly organized. There were few photos, but most were landscapes or beauty shots of his dog. “I haven’t ever done this before,” she said, cringing when she realized might sound a bit like an innuendo. “I mean an appointment to talk. I’ve talked before. We all have. Well, except that one dwarf, but the rest of us…”

“Belle?”

“Yes?”

“You’re rambling,” he said with a smile. “I’m afraid I don’t understand. I thought you were coming by to give me more instructions or whatever. I didn’t mean for you to have to talk about your problems. I’m afraid it is a bit natural for me to automatically ask people what might be on their minds. Hazard of the job.”

She blinked several times, watching him move from the doorway to his desk. “Instructions?”

He looked at the calendar on his computer screen guiltily. “I thought that this was about the auction and the fact that I missed the lesson with Regina,” he answered.

Belle almost laughed in relief that he was confused too. “No,” she said. “I don’t really care about that. It’s more Ruby’s thing.”

“So you were here for an appointment?” he asked, still clarifying what she wanted. Few people came to Archie on their own, usually having to be coerced or forced into a visit.

“I came here to visit a friend,” she said, smiling sadly. “Even though you have this whole doctor thing here in Storybrooke, I have always found you to be a good listener. And I wanted to bring you this.” Reaching in her oversized bag, she pulled out two books she had found in the volumes donated recently for a book sale. “They are a bit older, but I thought you might appreciate them.”

Archie curiously read the titles and found one to be a historical account of Freud and the other a book on dog training. “That’s very nice of you,” he said as she presses both of the books to him. “I don’t think anyone has ever…”

“I thought you might be a little tired of the gifts that the women have been leaving,” she said brushing past his second attempt to thank her. She smiled as he was already thumbing through the thicker of the two books. “Are you going to come tomorrow night to the dinner at Granny’s? Originally it was supposed to be for the employees, but Ruby has opened it up to anyone who is volunteering for the auction too. After all that you men have been doing to prepare and survive the zealousness of the women, we thought it might be nice to offer you a good meal.”

“I haven’t really thought about it,” the doctor said honestly. “I don’t usually attend large functions like that unless I am needed there.”

Belle nodded with understanding. “Well,” she said. “I think you might be needed. Some of the men have been having an awfully rough time of it. They might need therapy. Plus I want you to join us. You can sit at my table with my father and one of his friends. Ruby said she is putting me in Emma’s section so it should be fun to watch her try to be a waitress for the evening.”

***AAA***

Mary Margaret swooped in to hug Leroy, smiling warmly as he kissed her cheek and thanked her profusely. Her hand fluttered in a wave as he disappeared with two of the other dwarfs and three bags of stuff.

“What was that about?” Emma asked, frowning into the bright sunshine on such a cold afternoon. “It is legal, right?”

The former teacher crossed her arms over her chest, shivering slightly in the winter air. “I don’t think you need to ask that,” she said. “Anyway, it’s our way of taking care of this auction. So leave it to me.”

Emma nodded gravely and followed her mother up the stairs to the loft, breathing in the scent of the soup that had been boiling on the stove all day. Her mother, never one to stand still, was busily straightening up and giving occasional stirs to the covered pot, smiling as she imagined the taste of the vegetables melding together. “Your father went to pick up some items at the store,” she explained. “And Henry’s taking a nap upstairs with Neal.”

Emma reached out to place her brother’s bottle with the others in need of washing. “Gang’s all accounted for,” she mumbled, digging in a drawer for the bottle brush.

“Is Killian joining us for dinner tonight?” Mary Margaret asked as she added a dash of salt to the soup. “I didn’t know if you two had plans tonight or if he’d agree to the invitation.”

“I don’t know,” Emma admitted, avoiding her mother’s eyes. “I sort of kicked him out of the station this afternoon.”

“Emma?”

“He was getting text messages from someone and trying to avoid telling me about them,” she said, yanking the handle to turn on a stream of water. “Messages about a woman.”

Mary Margaret did not react immediately, replacing the lid on the soup and moving slowly to her daughter’s side. She placed the stopper in the sink so that it began to fill with water, adding soap to it that smelled of lavender. “What did he say about them?” she asked finally as her Emma dumped the used bottles into the soapy water.

“I didn’t make it to ask about them other than who they were from,” Emma said. “We were discussing what we actually are to each other and he kept getting these messages. I finally had to know so I swiped the phone from him and read them.”

Mary Margaret silently considered that, taking the first clean bottle from her daughter to rinse under the stream of water. Placing it in the drainer, she tried to catch her daughter’s gaze. “And then you kicked him out of the station?”

“Yes,” Emma said, her shoulders sagging a bit. “He wanted to explain, but I didn’t need to hear a bunch of lies. I didn’t need…”

“How do you know they would be lies?” her mother asked. “Killian’s got his faults, certainly, but stupidity isn’t one of them. He wouldn’t blatantly lie to you. Hold back the truth? He’s done that and seen how angry that makes you. Maybe he might do that again, but full out lie?”

Emma slammed the brush into the next bottle, running the bristles up and down the inside of it. “I thought you would understand,” she said accusingly. “You’re supposed to be on my side of this.”

“I am,” her mother assured her, placing a damp hand on Emma’s sweater clad shoulder. “I just want to understand exactly how much I’m supposed to hurt him. I will hurt him. I will make him pay for hurting you. I just need to know how much.” She smiled as her daughter’s agonized expression let a grin poke through momentarily. “Is it a matter of him keeping a secret or do you think he’s…”

Emma shut her eyes, her hands still submerged in the water. “I don’t want to think that,” she said. “I don’t want to think that he’d…”

“Well,” her mother said after her daughter couldn’t even complete the sentence, “then maybe we need to get his side on it. Because I’m having a hard time picturing him choosing someone else over you. He’s got great taste.” She bumped her daughter’s hip with her own.

“Wouldn’t he though?” she asked, not returning her mother’s fun gesture. “Wouldn’t he probably prefer someone who isn’t as screwed up and broken as I am? Do you know what we were discussing? Whether or not to call each other boyfriend and girlfriend? I was practically having a panic attack over that level of commitment. Other women aren’t like that. They compliment their boyfriends. They are affectionate. They give freaking gifts. I have panic attacks, beg for time to get used to the idea, and find excuses to get away when I start feeling too much.”

The mother’s beaming expression that her daughter was both in love and self-aware faded as she saw the pain on Emma’s face. “We all know that you aren’t the easiest person, none of us are really. We all have issues that they could write books about and according to your talk of our legendary status in this realm maybe they have. So you’re not different than the rest of us in that respect. Killian knows that about you. He knows that you are better at facing a snow monster or wicked witch than candlelight dinners and talk of the future.”

Emma shrugged, returning to the business of washing the baby bottles. “Maybe he’s getting tired of that though,” she said. “Maybe all these women he’s been around since this whole thing began are able to do those things. Maybe they aren’t broken.”

“Well, we talked about it last night,” her mother mused softly. “You are prickly, but I think you are worth it. And he clearly does too. Maybe you misinterpreted the messages or maybe they weren’t…”

Emma smiled and handed the last of the now clean bottles to her mother. “You have to say that,” she said, turning around so that her back was to the sink. “And it doesn’t help me get past the fact of those text messages exist. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

Her mother probably would have spoken, but a steady at the door interrupted them. Emma sighed, knowing that her father would have just entered the home so it meant that Killian was there. Both women gestured with their arms to say that the other should answer his knock. Emma relented first.

“Hey,” she said, swinging open the door and bracing one hand on the door jam and the other on the end of the door itself. She was effectively blocking him out of loft. “I didn’t think you’d show.”

“You invited me to join your family tonight,” he reminded her feebly. “I am hoping you’ll forgive my earliness, as I wish to talk to you about earlier.”

Emma’s expression did not soften though she did feel that familiar sensation in her stomach as he smiled at her in waiting for answer. Without moving her hands, she looked over her shoulder at her mother who was trying to look busy at the same time her ears were clearly seeking out the conversation between her daughter and the pirate. Emma exhaled desperately. “Why don’t we take a walk?” she asked. “I’ll get my coat.”

She tried not to think of what she was going to say, how she wanted to tell him that she didn’t want any of this to hurt. It was his turn to talk, his turn to explain and make excuses. “Is there a destination in mind?” he asked when they rounded the same part of the park for the second time.

“No,” she said, lower her head so that her mouth was half hidden by the scarf around her neck. “But I’m getting cold so let’s just say what we need to say.”

He nodded and stopped walking in the middle of the trail that was meant for bike riders. “The messages upon my phone were not meant to make you angry,” he said. “I was…”

She glared at him, her nostrils flaring a bit with the silent indignation that he was about to excuse what she had already seen.

“I was conversing with that dwarf – Grumpy,” he said. “The man is in need of some funding for something that he’s working on. I asked no questions about that, but I did help him.”

“You gave him money?” she asked incredulously. “Really?” Two children whizzed past them, laughter loud and voices screaming as they rode their bikes. “Then why…?”

“He’s selling his fishing boat,” Killian answered. “It is hardly comparable to a ship of any substantive size, but I thought that it might be nice to own something again. I thought it might be nice to have to continue with Henry’s lessons and perhaps for us to enjoy some time away from this town.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the phone, handing it to her. “Please,” he said, “read them all.”

Her gloved hand was shaking as their fingers brushed and she stared at the blank screen. “No,” she said. “I don’t want to read them.”

Pulling her hand back, she looked up from the screen and watched his eyes turn downward. “I understand,” he said, nodding. “I will take my leave.”

“No,” she repeated. “I didn’t mean…I meant that I don’t want to read them because I want to trust you. You shouldn’t have to prove that you’re not lying. I should just trust you. I do trust you. It’s me that I don’t trust.”

“That I don’t understand,” he said. “Why would you not have trust in your own words?”

Her hands rubbed up and down her arms in an attempt to warm herself as he maneuvered to offer her his jacket but she shook off the proposition. He looked briefly hurt that she was rejecting him, but that was replaced with concern as he measured her words and their meaning. “I don’t trust myself to do the right thing with you,” she said. “I keep finding myself in these positions where I could sabotage it all. It seems really easy to do that, easier than being a good girlfriend or whatever.”

“Emma!?!” the voice of an elderly woman broke through the conversation, making both Emma and Killian take a step back from each other.

“Mrs. Potts,” she answered. “I didn’t even see you out here.”

“Of course not, my dear,” the woman said, nodding to both of them. “Have you seen your father? My poor cat got away and I know your father could track her down. He’s good at that sort of thing – finding people.”

Emma’s eyes stayed on Killian, her voice barely disguising both the amusement and annoyance inside her. “He’s running an errand for my mother,” she explained. “If you give me a description of the cat, I’ll be happy to see if I can help.”

“No, dear,” the woman said. “I’m sure she’ll come home when she’s of a mind. Don’t you worry, but you could tell your father I was looking for him?”

“Of course, Mrs. Potts,” Emma said. “We’ll see you later.”

“Goodbye, Emma,” she said, her voice more musical as she wiggled her fingers in a goodbye gesture to Emma. “Killian.”

The woman passed close to Killian and he jumped at her presence, landing a foot closer to Emma. Startled, he whipped his head to watch the older woman retreat toward the town. “She just pinched me,” he said with a high-pitched sound of astonishment.

The blonde woman giggled, putting her arm through Killian’s and pulling him along in the opposite direction. “Come on,” she said. “We have dinner waiting, a conversation to finish, and you to protect. Unless you want me want to call her back? Is she your type?”

“My type?” he asked, settling his pace beside Emma. “I much prefer a beautiful light haired woman like you, love. I think she might be a bit advanced in age for my tastes.”

Emma tugged his arm gently, drawing him closer to her. “You’re like 300 years old and you’re talking about someone else being old?”

***AAA***

“This isn’t exactly the most private of locations for this,” Regina said as David pushed an abandoned cart out of the way. “But if you don’t mind, then I don’t.”

David glowered at the woman who was technically his step-mother-in-law, if that was the right term for it. “You said you wanted me to practice and I said I didn’t have time. It is now or never.”

Regina breathed in noisily, a hip jutted out and her arms crossed over her chest. “Show me your walk,” she said, resigning to the situation. “Start here at the canned peas and walk to the tomato products. Then turn around and come back.” When he didn’t move immediately, she began to tap her foot impatiently.

David began his typical stroll down the aisle. “Shoulders back,” she called out. “Don’t swing your arms so much. Stop clenching!”

Stopping short, the prince turned on his heel and met her sneer. “What exactly am I clenching?”

Her eyebrows shot up and she lowered her hands with an air of exasperation. Using both hands, she grabbed both cheeks of her own rear end. “Got it?”

He nodded and turned back, trying to follow her directions as he walked. “Head up,” she called out next. “There is nothing on the floor worthy of your attention.”

He reached the cans of tomato sauce and turned around. “How was that?”

“Great if you were a troll or an ogre,” she said. “Now walk back this way. This time I want you to take longer steps, really glide.”

Emma and Killian had made it back to the loft long before David. Mary Margaret stood at one of the windows and watched for her husband. “I’m going to kill him,” she said, looking back to the stove. “It’s been ready for a while now and we need him to bring the sandwich fixings.”

“I’m sure he’s just running late,” Emma said, trying to catch Henry’s eye. Awake after his nap, her son seemed unusually quiet and had twice referred to Killian as sir. “Henry?”

“I’m going to go check on something,” he muttered, climbing back up the stairs and ignoring the probing looks from the three adults.

“I’m worried about him,” Emma said, leaving Killian sitting on the couch and her mother at the window as she followed after him.

Mary Margaret sighed in relief and lowered the gauzy curtain back in place, turning to face Killian. “He’s just pulling in now,” she said. “Thank you by the way, for all the stuff you dropped off this morning.”

Killian smiled, climbing up from the sofa that’s stuffing was so loose that one sunk into it and had to struggle to get out. “I’m not sure why you needed all of those items, but I was happy to oblige,” he said. “I don’t think Emma liked seeing them in my room.”

Mary Margaret counted out five soup bowls and stacked them at the end of the table, following it with five small sandwich plates that Killian promptly put at each person’s seat. “You were good not to ask me what it is about,” she continued. “I have my reasons and well…if you’d said no I probably would have had Emma break in your room to get them.”

“Aye, I have no doubt that you would or that she would,” he chortled. “I won’t question your intentions, but I do presume that this is related in some fashion to the auction?” He had boxed up the items that had been arriving at his room, the bottles of alcohol, the books, the photos, the poems, and gift certificates. She’d offered him no explanation, but he’d been so happy that someone wanted the items that he did not question it.

“Maybe,” she said, standing on her toes to reach something from the top shelf. “But that’s all you’ll get from me on the subject.” She smiled proudly as she pulled own the item. “Emma tells me you are purchasing a boat?”

“Aye,” he said. “It should be good for my seafaring ways to have something again.”

The mother and grandmother smiled warmly. “I know Henry will be excited. You have been very good to teach him so much about sailing. His grandfather and I try to bring some of the lessons he would have learned in the Enchanted Forest here, but there is only so much any one of us can do. So it’s good that you are willing. I’m sure Emma is a good student too.”

Killian chuckled at that. “Emma tries her best, but she’s reluctant to take direction from anyone. I don’t think she likes to be wrong, which students often are at times.”

The two could hear David’s footsteps coming up the stairs and his keys rattling in the door. “I’m sure you are a patient teacher for her,” she continued, winking as her daughter returned from her talk with Henry. “Perhaps one day I’ll even get a chance to see this new purchase of yours.”

“Are you inviting yourself?” Emma asked as her father entered the loft. She helped relieve him on his bags and carried them to her mother who was manning the pan for the grilled cheese sandwiches to be assembled.

“No,” Mary Margaret answered. “Just expressing an idea.”

David kissed both his wife and daughter on the cheek, ran his hand through Henry’s hair, and nodded to Killian before heading toward the bedroom to see to his son. The women were turned around to the counter to fix the sandwiches but Henry and Killian both noticed the way that the man was walking.

“Mate?” Killian asked. “Did you meet with Regina today?”

“Why would you meet with my mom?” Henry asked, breaking his silence as he watched his grandfather turn around. “Was it about me?”

David frowned at the pirate and placed both hands on his hips. “No,” he told Henry. “Your mother was helping with some details about the auction and I met with her to go over them.” Swiveling toward Killian he frowned even deeper. “You have a big mouth, _mate.”_

Killian nervously ran his hand along the side of his face. “Perhaps,” he answered. “But she obviously has not finished with you. Is it her teachings that have you appearing to be walking with something stuck up your…”

“Killian!” Emma admonished before he could finish the sentence that he swore was a technical term that Regina had taught them in their private lessons. “There is not an appropriate way to end that sentence with Henry in the room.”

“And your walk needs work too,” David challenged. “She said it was like you forget your arms are even supposed to move. It’s like you’re a zombie up there.”

Emma and Mary Margaret laughed, both looking over their shoulders at David. “Regina – the Evil Queen – is helping with an auction? Really?” Emma asked, looking back to her mother. “I guess you don’t really know people until they reveal a surprise.”

Mary Margaret wasn’t satisfied with her husband’s description of her step-mother’s involvement. “So what exactly is she doing?” the woman asked. “Is she going to use her magic for the lights?”

“Runway walk,” David said with a half grumble half coughing noise. “She’s trying to help us walk better on stage.”

“She’s giving you modeling lessons?” Mary Margaret screeched, flipping one of the sandwiches at the last moment before it burned. “My husband is taking modeling lessons?” She looked aghast at her husband who was no longer following the woman’s advice to stand up and keep his chin parallel to the floor.

Emma shifted her gaze between her father and her boyfriend, assessing what exactly was going on with them. “Killian?” she asked, “I take it that you’ve been a part of this too?”

“Aye,” he said, looking angry rather than embarrassed. “It’s supposed to help us connect with the audience.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I feel like I have to explain this chapter a little because things took off in a direction I wasn’t expecting.  
> 1\. Belle and Archie – strictly platonic. She’s not ready to date so soon after banishing Rumple and I wasn’t going there. It is just that she needs all the friends she can get and he’s a good one for her. So that scene was more about her learning to come out of the shell a little bit.   
> 2\. Mary Margaret and Emma had a similar conversation already, but I took this a step farther and wanted Emma to worry. Yes, Killian’s reasoning was really contrived, but it fit with the fluffiness of the story in my mind.   
> 3\. Snow and Killian share few scenes of the two of them alone. In the past he had not been that respectful of her, but I’d like to see him have a chance to be since he is in love with her daughter. While David is more competitive with him, I think Snow would honestly want to know her daughter better through him. I also think that she would want to help him to make Emma happy because that is something they have in common – wanting Emma to be happy.


	7. Do You Want Fries With That?

Killian offered to take Emma out on his new purchase on Thursday, but she refused with the knowledge that she was both working a full shift as sheriff and doing volunteer duty at the died that night. He’d sulked a bit, but agreed that she was being a public servant and promised to reward her for that. She had laughed at her father’s disgust over that statement, leaving her to remind him about walking in on him and her mother in bed.

“Why are you so anxious to get out on the water?” Emma asked Killian as they shared a breakfast to go order from Granny’s at her desk. “Is it the call of ocean to you or are you avoiding something?”

He blushed a bit deeper, swallowing the bite he had just taken. “I’m avoiding a final session with the Evil Queen,” he said. “Unlike your father, I’m not keen on taking her advice and subjecting myself to her judgment.”

“I don’t think he likes it much either,” Emma said, closing the now empty food container. She sighed and groaned in a very unladylike fashion, sinking back into her chair with her eyes already drooping. Full from the food and tired from being on edge for the past few days caught up with her. “It is too early to say this, but I could really use a nap.”

Killian smiled warmly at her. “You could forgo your volunteer job tonight and rest. I doubt anyone would blame you for needing that.”

“I promised Ruby,” she said. “I always keep my promises.”

“That you do,” Killian said, standing up to remove their breakfast remnants. “I do have hope that you will someday put yourself before helping everyone else.”

“Life of a savior,” she smiled. She stood up, stretching her arms over her head. “Come here and let me kiss you goodbye. I have to get some work done and I don’t need you distracting me.”

She brushed her lips against his once and then twice, trying not to melt into him like she felt the tendency to do these days. She did have responsibilities to take care of at work and more than that she had a father due in shortly. Pulling back, she giggled at the disappointed look in his eyes. “What did you expect?” she teased, their faces still so close that their breath mingled. “We’re in the middle of my office.”

He nipped along her jawline, moving closer to her ear. His lips just above the silver earring she wore, his voice and breath were warm against her. “Have a good day, Swan,” he said.

***AAA***

That Thursday night Leroy and some of the guys had ordered just about every item on the menu at Granny’s, enjoying both the food and the fact they did not have to pay the bill. From the beers they were using to toast a million and one things to the French fries soaked in cheese and bacon, they seemed to be in heaven as they told and retold their adventures that week to each other.

“Did you make these, sister?” Leroy asked, shoving another of the long potato wedges into his mouth. “It’s good to know you have a talent other than crime and villain fighting.”

“It’s good to have a fall back,” she responded, attempting to balance the six drinks she was taking to one of the nearby tables. Ruby had suggested balancing the tray using both of her hands and a shoulder, but she had yet to master that technique. So when she tripped there was nothing she could do to save the drinks or the patrons at the nearby tables from being bathed in soda.

“Sorry,” she said, using what felt like hundreds of napkins while she waited on her father’s help. The whole incident left her sticky and her shoes stuck to the floor as she walked in soggy socks and shoes.

Emma was rolling her shoulders, attempting to put some feeling back into them other than pain from carrying the oversized tray of food from one set of customers to the next. When she’d told Ruby she would do this, she had imagined 10-15 people, but the place was packed. They were keeping her running as she refilled glasses, brought out extra condiments, and took orders from each one.

“You should have recruited more wait staff,” Emma said as she waited for Granny to finish sautéing the main course for one table and stir frying another. “I’m dying out there.”

Ruby was supposedly helping to wait tables, but for every three that Emma hit, Ruby was still at her first table conversing with the crowd. “You’re doing fine,” Ruby told her. “Just keep thinking about those tips.”

“Those tips are going to charity,” Emma reminded her. “That’s not a motivating factor for my feet and shoulders.” She grabbed two more completed plates off the shelf and backed her way through the swinging door into the dining room. Her father followed behind her, dumping everything from the deserted tables into the large plastic box.

“Are they making him wear a hairnet?” Victor asked, smiling at Emma’s eye roll.

“I’d worry more about the one cooking wearing a hairnet than my father,” she retorted back and headed over to refill the water glasses of some of the Merry Men. She was afraid to even glance at the clock, knowing that she still had quite a while left on what seemed to be an endless shift.

“I’m going to kill Ruby,” her father said as he brought out a bucket and mop again. She followed his gaze over to where Jefferson, Will, and Little John had started a conversation about what did happen when you bumped beer bottles with the bottom of one and the top of the other. Emma shook her head and fished out a few more bottles for the men who gratefully accepted her delivery.

“She should have gotten someone else,” she told her father as he walked by. “You should be getting a free dinner too.”

He tried to look annoyed. “I volunteered for this first so I’m stuck,” he admitted. “I’ve learned my lesson though. Next time Ruby starts a sentence with, ‘I need you to do me a favor’ I’m going to run the other direction.”

“In her defense,” Emma said, patting her father’s shoulder, “you volunteered for the auction on your own.”

“It’s his fault,” David answered, eyeing the table where Killian had just sat down.

“Your father appears to be overworked,” Killian said when she finally made it to his table to both take his order and kiss his waiting cheek.

“So am I,” she told him. “And yet that doesn’t stop you from making me take your order.” She tapped her pen on her order pad like a real pro, only needing to smack chewing gum to look like the stereotype. She was even wearing a uniform though not as bold as the one Ruby used to wear. The red skirt stopped a few inches above her knees and the white short sleeved shirt buttoned down and was tucked into the skirt behind and red and white striped apron. Her hair was in a high ponytail, completed by a red bow with red sneakers and white socks to complete the outfit. She even had a name tag. “What will you have, sir?” she asked, emphasizing the moniker to show off her professionalism.

His eyes were blatantly mischievous as he looked up and down her body. She only allowed that for a moment before she shook her head. “Alright, mister,” she said with a gentle laugh. “You are getting the tomato soup and grilled cheese.”

“Wait,” he cried out as she turned to leave. “I didn’t order that.”

“Too late,” she responded, placing the order slip in the window of the kitchen. “Order’s already in.”

Emma glanced over at her mother who was leaning over the counter at an awkward angle to speak quietly with Tom Clark. While the angle might have been to avoid the man sneezing on her, Emma did wonder about the conversation. He handed Mary Margaret a small white envelope that from far away appeared to have money inside. She stood back up, placed the envelope in her pocket and smiled, walking back to the register.

“I’m not going to have to arrest you for embezzlement, am I?” Emma asked, waiting on her next order to be ready. “You looked like you’re skimming money off the till.”

The dark haired woman laughed. “You know what I’m doing,” she said with a wry smile. “And I think we’re in business, by the way. I just have to get these coins from Leroy appraised.”

Emma shot her a not now your husband and my boyfriend are in here and we can’t let them know look. “Just be more discrete,” Emma said, reaching in the window for a plate of lasagna for Anton and one of clams for Michael Tillman. “I’d hate to have to offer an explanation for this tonight.” Pausing, she looked over at the register. “Wait! Why are you even running the register? Everyone is eating for free tonight.”

Mary Margaret looked a bit sheepishly at her daughter. “How long was it going to take you to notice?” she teased. “I’m collecting the tips.”

Emma groaned, looking at her mother’s uniform that was similar to her own but spotless after not have to slop food back and forth. “We’re not going to discuss the unfairness of that situation or the fact that you could have been helping me,” Emma declared. “But later we are going to have a long talk about this family and responsibility and stuff.”

***AAA***

Emma groaned out her gratitude as her mother poured the water from the tea kettle into the basin where she was soaking her feet. The sound, which was completely about the painful and swollen appendages, was enough to make David and Killian laugh at her dramatic and somewhat inappropriate response to even the modicum of pleasure that warm water brought her.

“I don’t want to hear it,” she told them, wagging her finger at each. “You got to sit at some point tonight – all of you. And some of you,” she shot an accusing look at Killian, “sat all evening having me wait on you. I am never going to be able to move again.”

“I did not realize that waitressing required so much physical strength,” David said with a smirk. “And imagine if you’d had to carry a mop and a bucket or a container full of dirty dishes.”

Emma glared at him, with both hands on her neck, attempting a massage that she had refused to allow Killian to endeavor earlier. She did not need that to happen in front of her parents. “We’re not going to compare loads we had to carry,” she told him. “And I’d like to point out that you somehow always managed to find a seat in the kitchen when you weren’t working.”

“Granny needed the company,” David answered, earning a mutual look of annoyance from mother and daughter. “What? I was being nice.”

Killian handed the cup he had been holding to Emma, smiling as she accepted it with almost as much enthusiasm as the water for her foot soak from her mother. “Are you certain there is nothing else I can do for you, love?”

“No,” Emma said. “I’ll be fine in a few hours. You and Dad need to get your rest though. Women won’t bid on you if you’ve got bags under your eyes or look like you haven’t slept in a week.”

Mary Margaret perched herself on the arm of the chair where David sat, running her hand through his hair critically. “You should try and work in a trim,” she said. “You’re getting a bit shaggy. Don’t you want to look your best on stage?”

“I don’t think I have much to worry about there,” David answered, wrapping his arm around her waist. “With all the gifts and attention I’ve gotten recently, I think that I have nothing to fear. But I might get a little spruced up for my date.”

“Is that what you’re calling it?” his wife asked, slapping a hand onto his shoulder. “I thought it was just a movie.”

David took a sip from his own beverage and appeared thoughtful as he considered. “I’ve been thinking about that,” he said. “We’re probably talking about a lot of money. I would want the woman winning to get her money’s worth. So I am considering adding in a romantic walk in the park and lunch since this is all supposed to occur in the daylight.”

“You sure you want to do that, mate?” Killian asked. “What if that Mrs. Potts wins? You’d be avoiding those pinching fingers of hers for hours. Are you up to that task?”

David laughed, having already heard of Killian’s much less planned run in with the woman. “There are plenty of women in this town who are well worth the effort,” he said, not noticing the angry looks of his wife and daughter. “I’m kind of enjoying the idea of guessing who it might be. It could be fun.”

Killian darted his eyes to Emma. “I am still holding out hope that this lass is going to come through and bid on me,” he admitted. “I don’t know that I’d care to spend a day alone at sea with another woman. I also don’t know that Swan would let me survive that.”

Emma’s face softened, but she bit back her laugh. “So is it fear or romance that has you so sure I should pay to spend time with you?” she asked. “And by the way, no. I still maintain that I’m not paying to spend a day with my boyfriend. That just seems wrong.”

“Look at it as an adventure,” David added. “You’ll get to spend time with someone else for the day. It’ll make you appreciate what you have even more.” He squeezed his arm tighter around his wife’s waist. “Plus we’re going to bring in a lot of money.”

Emma giggled, stretching her feet in the warm water. “Why are you so convinced you’re going to bring in so much money?” she asked. “The women in town may have run out of money on all the gifts.”

David looked hurt that they were questioning what he considered very magnanimous gesture. “I’m simply trying to give the woman who wins a day with me her money’s worth,” he said. “It is going to be a competitive process and the winner deserves more than a dvd.”

“So you’re thinking to take her to Granny’s?” Mary Margaret asked, her eyes narrow with suspicion. “Or someplace else?”

David shrugged casually. “I checked with some of the other restaurants in town, but they are already booked with it being Valentine’s Day and all the men trying to come up with something for their dates from the auction.”

“So Granny’s?” she repeated her question.

“I was thinking that maybe it should be more intimate,” he said. “Maybe you could cook here and we could open one of those expensive bottles of wine that I was given?”

Emma flinched as she watched her mother’s head spin to face her father, the brunette jumping up from his semi-embrace and facing him head on. “Uh oh,” she whispered under her breath, shooting Killian a warning look to not say a word. In most instances she would have run, but her father was positioned near the stairs and the door, blocking her easy escape and her feet hurt way too much to run.

“You have put yourself on the auction block to have women pay money to spend time with you,” her mother rattled off, seeming to have a list of grievances she’d been wanting to share. “Those same women who have been leaving inappropriate gifts at the home you share with your wife and children.”

David looked a bit shell shocked as she addressed him, nodding weakly at her assessment.

“You expect me to sit through this auction where women will be looking you over like you’re an animal for sale for a farm,” she continued. “I’m supposed to ignore the comments about you. I’m supposed to ignore the comments about how I must not be keeping you satisfied because why else would you be putting yourself out there. I’m supposed to spend hours alone on Valentine’s Day while you watch a movie in a dark room with some other woman. And now you want me to cook for the two of you.”

“I guess that was a bad idea,” David answered. “I didn’t realize that you…”

Neal’s wail interrupted the tense scene, his screeching growing increasingly insistent as Mary Margaret stared harshly at her husband and then retreated to see to her son. “I hope Mrs. Potts does win you,” she said over the screams of her son.

“I think I should be going,” Killian said, lifting Emma’s hand to kiss it gently rather than a proper goodbye kiss. For one he did not want to know if she was harboring such feelings too, but mostly he was not looking to shoulder the blame that David might throw his way for getting him involved in this mess. Pausing at the silent and traumatized man, the pirate patted his shoulder consolingly. “It’s going to be fine, mate.”

As the door clicked behind him, David looked helplessly at his wife pacing the floor with a quieter but still upset Neal. “I should go in there,” he said, not moving from his chair.

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Emma said quietly. “Let her cool down a little. It’ll help.”

David stood, torn between rushing to her side and retreating from the battle that he may have already lost. “Maybe I should take a walk,” he said, moving toward the door. “I would say she wouldn’t hit me while she’s holding our son, but I’m not so sure right now.”

“I’ll talk to her,” Emma said. “Go pick up something chocolate. It can be a peace offering.”

Her father left, throwing a jacket on as he prepared to brave the cold. She leaned forward and saw that her mother was still pacing the floor of the bedroom, her arms wrapped tightly around the baby. With a grunt of pain, Emma removed her feet from the water and dried them on the waiting towel.

“He’s gone to search for chocolate,” Emma said as she threw herself on the foot of the bed. “He’ll be gone a while. I think this town has been cleaned out of anything romantic for the past week.”

Her mother gave short and sarcastic laugh. “That’s why our plan was so perfect,” she said, drawling out the last word. “We sold all of Killian and David’s gifts to the other men to woo the ladies into bidding on them. It was a brilliant plan.”

Emma sighed. “Yes, it was,” she said. “Especially since it gave us enough money to be competitive when we bid on them.”

Her mother’s hand was going up and down the baby’s back in a soothing motion that was probably as much for her as it was for him. “Well, you can have my share of it,” Mary Margaret declared. “If your father wants to spend a romantic day with another woman because she bid on him, he can. I hope he goes for cheap.”

“Mom,” Emma said, propping herself on both elbows. “You’re angry that he wants you to cook and that some of this might be getting to his head, but do you really want to watch other women fight over your husband?”

Her mother paused her movement until Neal vocally objected. “You’re the one who said we should let them sink or swim,” she said accusingly. “You said that you didn’t want to use your own money to bid on your boyfriend and that we should trust them.”

Emma tilted her head and closed her eyes briefly. “And yet I’ve been helping you sell all the presents,” she pointed out. “I even helped you write poems for Tom to give to that one woman. I know you and me. We aren’t going to sit there with our hands in our pockets while women who gave the guys lacey red underwear and half-naked photos pay to have a day with them. I trust Dad and Killian, but I don’t trust those women. Neither do you.”

“What do you suggest? Because I don’t want to boost your father’s ego any more than you want to boost Killian’s. There has to be a way that we can teach them a lesson and avoid that.”

“We could give the money to Granny and Mrs. Potts,” Emma suggested. “Can’t you just see Dad in a dark room with Mrs. Potts? And Killian on a boat with Granny?”

“That seems kind of mean,” Mary Margaret said. “And unfair to Mrs. Potts and Granny. I may be a little ticked at your father at the moment, but I do still love him.”

Her mother slipped into the alcove to put Neal back in his crib, humming a soft tune as she did so. Collapsing back on the foot of the bed, Emma stared up at the ceiling for an answer. Time was running out and she wasn’t so sure she’d mentally be okay with knowing that Killian was out on his new-old boat with some beautiful woman while she waited on shore. She wished she was a bigger person, but the whole idea made her sick. She wouldn’t even be able to hide out at the loft now that her father was going to bring some woman back there.

“I’ve got it,” Emma announced, sitting up and her sore feet slapping the floor. “We’re going to win those auctions and we’re going to surprise the hell out of our men.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the reception this fic has received. I’ve enjoyed getting to hear how much you are laughing and how you could see these things playing out in your mind. It’s been a fun fic to write. As someone who writes for a living, I’ve been enjoying the chance to just be fun and carefree with this. I hope you love the twist that is coming in the next chapter.  
> Spoilers:  
> Emma and Mary Margaret take on the women.   
> Granny spends some serious money.  
> Killian and Henry try to figure it all out.   
> David and Killian are surprised and pleased with the outcome.


	8. Sold!

**_A/N: So we’ve made it to the auction. This was a lot of fun to write about. I have a chapter to follow about David and Killian’s “dates.” And then a final chapter with Valentine’s Day night and evening._ ** **_J_ **

**_I tried to include people’s requests in this chapter, but that proved a bit hard. 1. I would have loved to have given Leroy a chance with Nova. However, given the timeline she’s probably still in the hat. So that was problematic. 2. I liked the suggestion of some of the men bidding on Charming and Killian. However, I could not find a way to make it funny and not insulting - So I left that out. 3. On another site, someone posted about Will’s true love and the plot of OUAT in Wonderland. I’m not someone who watched so I went with the fact that most characters on the show don’t know of his relationships – sorry I can’t write what I don’t know._ **

The Storybrooke School Auditorium was a busy place that night with the volunteers in the wings of the stage as Ruby and Belle ran between them, adjust ties, sewing on buttons, and trying to make each man his most presentable. The audience area was split into sections. Women who were prepared to bid sat on the edges of their seats, clamoring to get closer to the stage and shooting each other dirty looks at the thought that a friend, family member or loved one might outbid them that night. Behind them sat the men who weren’t participating and the women not bidding, as both just wanted a good view of all the action.

Emma and Mary Margaret entered the auditorium and waved to a few familiar faces before taking their own seats on the third row. Mary Margaret was talking animatedly to a friend and Emma watched silently next to her. It occurred to her to wonder where her little brother was that night, but given that there were no small children in sight, Emma decided to go with the flow. They received their own fair share dirty looks as the women who were most serious about the bidding process. Patting her jacket, Emma smiled. “I’m on duty so I’ll protect us from anyone getting too rowdy,” she said.

“You brought a gun to an auction,” her mother hissed. “Is that really necessary?”

Emma leaned toward her, whispering conspiratorially. “I’m the sheriff and these women are not playing games,” she reminded her. “Plus we have the entire town under one roof tonight. If any villains want to strike down on us, this would be the perfect place.” She laughed.

“I’ll just be glad when this is over,” Mary Margaret said for the third time that evening. “How do you think the guys are doing?”

“They are fine,” Emma said, uncupping her hand from her mouth. “Just stick to the plan, okay. We’ve done everything we can. We just need luck on our side at this point.”

Mary Margaret smiled as she spotted Belle emerging from the curtained area and hurrying down the side stairs of the stage. “Your father is going to be shocked,” she said. “And I expect Killian will be too.” The two women awkwardly pulled their legs in as another group of women arrived and slid into the seats near them.

“Are you speaking to him yet?” Emma asked, craning to see who all had taken their seats already.

“He brought me an IOU for the chocolate,” her mother laughed. “I wasn’t happy, but I forgive him. He even said he’d drop out of this if I wanted him to do so. I think we’re prepared to survive whoever wins them. Let’s just keep our mind on the fact that after these ‘dates’ we get to spend Valentine’s Day evening with them.” She used her fingers to make the quotation marks around the word dates.

“We have to get through the auction and those so called dates first,” Emma reminded her. “Eyes on the prize.”

The low tone of chit chat became silence as the house lights dimmed and an unsteady spotlight shone at center stage. The women all sat up straighter, the heart shaped bidding panels held at the ready. Ruby stepped into the spotlight and shielded her eyes from the brightness as she smiled out at the crowd. Her voice shook a little as she began to speak to welcome everyone, thanking them for their participation and wishing the audience members luck in the bidding. By the time she got to the house keeping portion of the instructions, her voice was steadier and she appeared more confident on stage. She finally welcomed Marco, who had agreed to be the night’s auctioneer. Handing him the microphone, she waved to the crowd and sauntered down the same stairs that Belle had used earlier. The two women sat next to each other, Belle passing her a heart shaped panel to use.

Marco might not have been the most experienced of auctioneers and his accent made his speech a little slower at times, but he did a great job. Even the least desirable of the candidates sounded like prime catches as Marco read the words that Ruby and Belle had written about each. Unlike the catalog descriptions, these were flattering and honest depictions of each man.

First up were the package deals. The dwarfs, the Merry Men, and others had paired themselves up in duos, trios, and small groups – not for dates but to do odd jobs. It was obvious that the women were saving money for the later auctions, but still these attracted enough attention.

Emma had to giggle when Granny outbid everyone for the package deal of the dwarfs to help out in the restaurant the next week. Marco handed the microphone over to Belle when it came to Merry Men, bidding to try to purchase their help in the woods for some wood cutting he needed done. Emma knew that her mother had planned to bid on one of the groups, but she was holding out for their plan. Thankfully the crowd was receptive and already several hundred dollars were raised for their efforts.

Marco flipped pages in his notes and cleared his throat, looking over his shoulder as the men lined up in order in the wings with Regina standing at the front of the line. She had told Ruby that she had no intention of witnessing nor bidding on the auction, but after some persuasion had agreed to help out backstage. She was still shouting suggestions and critiquing walks just minutes before the curtains were drawn.

The first few of the men up for auction did get as many bids as some of the groups had, but going for $100 or $200 was fine for them. They were pleased with their bidders and smiled pleasantly as they were united with them in the audience. Anton received quite a few bids, making the former giant blush from embarrassment when some of the women got a little more rambunctious and requested a little dance from him. Phillip seemed the most disturbed by the whole thing and silently pleaded with Aurora to bid on him, which she finally did. Jefferson and Michael also earned more money and applause than they were prepared for, especially in one tense moment for both when Mrs. Potts led the bidding only to be beat out at the last moment.

Archie earned more bids than he could have imagined, though he hoped none were from patients. He couldn’t quite see since Regina had ripped the glasses off of him before she sent him out to walk in front of the crowd. He heard Belle’s voice loud and clear though and smiled when she won the auction and promptly dropped the money in the metal bank drawer before helping him off the stage to find his spectacles.

Will Scarlet really got the crowd going as he not only walked across the stage but attempted to dance to the heavy beat of the music that was playing. David later teased him that he was only moments from earning dollar bills for the moves he broke out up there. Much to his chagrin, Will earned $20 less than Archie and was won for the day by a widowed mother of eight children who was more interested in having him babysit than anything else. Given his own romantic situation, the circumstances were fine if not a little odd.

A few of the dwarfs and Merry Men put themselves back up individually. Granny threatened to bid on a few of them, claiming they had run up tabs in the diner that they could work off, but she did not follow through. Mrs. Potts finally won her date with one of the Merry Men, who was a great sport about it and turned around as she approached him. With his rear end on display, he pointed his finger at it and told her to pinch away to the appreciative and entrained roar of the crowd.

Emma questioningly looked at her mother, who finally admitted she might have encouraged the older woman to leave David and Killian alone in favor of someone who would be more appreciative of her advances. “Threatening?” Emma asked, furrowing her brow. “Or bribing?”

“Just doing what I have to do,” her mother answered, smiling fondly as one of the waitresses won a date with Little John as planned.

Leroy was next and though he gruffly shuffled to the center of the stage, ignoring Regina’s hissed instructions, he blinked into the crowd and said a silent prayer for a bid. “$50,” came the first bid, from one of the waitresses at the diner. He was secretly glad that he had been offering better tips lately.

“$75 for him to do my dishes,” Granny called out, pointedly looking at him. “He’d probably break them though.”

The bidding went back and forth until he was at $175. He could live with that, he said to himself as he made one more pass along the edge of the stage. Even the women who weren’t bidding on him were appreciative and let out some encouraging cat calls. When he heard a voice yell out $200, he stopped short and squinted into the audience to see who was willing to spend that much on him. The second he saw her he had to grin, seeing the familiar face one of bartenders from the Rabbit Hole.

Granny purchased a very nervous Mr. Smee, who was seriously contemplating asking for a recount when the older woman whispered that she had bought him for a friend. She then grabbed his arm and promptly delivered him to the much younger and shyer woman who had taken over the ice cream and yogurt shop after the Ingrid’s death. Nobody knew where the money came from, but she also purchased a date with Doc for herself.

Ruby purchased Dr. Whale, to nobody’s surprise. However, she quickly informed him that it was only because it was a good financial decision. When someone screamed out that it was about time, she merely rolled her eyes and told him that she’d see him later.

Emma stayed quiet except for the occasional laugh and applause in a particular funny moment. She found her hands gripping the arm rests of the chair or even her mother’s arm as she waited David and Killian’s announcements. There were only three men left when she heard her father’s name. She smiled to herself as the former shepherd walked onto the stage, clearly trying to remember each of Regina’s instructions. One could practically see the gears turning in his head to remind him to stand straight, glide, smile, keep his head up, and not clench any of his cheeks.

The bidding started before Marco even completed the introduction, but Mary Margaret was silent. Shooting her daughter a secretive look, the two women watched the women bid and outbid each other. David tried to look aloof, as Regina had suggested, but his eyes still moved from bidder to bidder with interest.

In order to bid, a woman had to stand and wave her red or pink heart for the amount they were willing to spend. Three women were going back and forth in $25 increments toward the left of the stage. They might have continued all night except for Mary Margaret regally standing and staring them down. The room grew silent as they all prepared to hear the princess’s bid for her husband. She did not raise her heart.

“I’ve always wanted my own charming prince,” a voice from the back broke through the silence and bellowed. “I’ll bid $1,000.”

Most of the room turned to face the unrecognizable voice amidst the giggling and whispering that some unknown woman had just bid for the prince as well as stood up against the prince’s wife. Mary Margaret didn’t turn, recognizing the voice immediately and touching her daughter’s shoulder softly. Emma stood next to her mother and nodded, holding up her own heart bid panel. “$1,050,” she said, smiling to her father as he mother sat back down.

The woman bid again and Emma flashed a smile as all eyes stayed on her. Adjusting the brown leather coat she wore, Emma was sure that most saw the glint of the metal gun in its holster. “$1,200,” Emma said as firmly as she could muster.

Marco’s eyes went wide as he looked toward the back of the auditorium at the woman who had been bidding. Seeing the woman pause to think and then finally shake her head no, Marco smiled to Emma and pounded the gavel on the podium with the words sold to Emma echoing through the auditorium. The crowd roared with applause as Emma handed the $1,200 in cash to Belle and slipped her mother the rest of the cash. Winking at her father, she extended her hand as he came off the stage.

“What are you doing, Emma?” he asked.

She shrugged and smiled back at him, her hand still gripping his. “I’m your date for tomorrow,” she said. “It won’t be romantic since you’re married and we’re related, but I thought we could spend the day together as father and daughter. What do you say?”

“I’m all yours,” he said smiling broadly as someone congratulated Emma, “for $1,200.”

“Quite a bargain for Prince Charming,” she said, kissing his cheek as he went to sit with the other men who had been bought and sold that day. Emma took her seat back with her mother.

Killian came on to the stage next. His smile was more confident than David’s had been, but he was clearly not comfortable with the idea. His eyes met Emma’s and she shook her head that she would not bid on him. That made his smile falter for a moment, but he replaced it and waited as Marco extolled his accomplishments on the sea – as much as they were known. The more vocal in the crowd were already making more innuendos than he ever had in his life. As with David, the bidding was vigorous, humorous, and at times vicious. Emma watched two women band together to defeat another and several shoot her looks to see if she would bid on him. She remained stoic until the bidding began to play out. Then, like her mother, she stood and warningly stared down the straggling bidders. This time the group new what to expect and shifted their gaze to Mary Margaret.

Killian, however, did not know what was happening. He’d heard that Emma won the date with her own father, but he’d not seen the silent display. When one woman yelled out that she would bid $950, her voice cracked as she watched Mary Margaret rise from the chair and gently push her daughter back to sitting. “$1,000,” the princess said with her cardboard heart raised up.

“$1,050,” another voice squeaked out. Emma smiled up at her mother. The two had raised $3,000 by selling the gifts that Killian and David had received, as well as crafting some of their own for the men of Storybrooke to give back to the women wanting to woo their prospective auction winnings. They had split the proceeds in half, but with David costing Emma $1,200, she had handed her mother back $300.

Mary Margaret did not acknowledge the woman, placing one hand on her hip and lifting the cardboard heart straight up over her head. “$1,100.”

Whether it was the brunette’s dogged determination or the fact that Emma let her jacket fall back and reveal the gun, the woman fell back into her seat and talked to her friend next to her. Marco’s voice followed with the words, “Sold to Mary Margaret.”

Killian looked truly shocked and confused as Mary Margaret escorted him off the stage and past a giggling Emma to join David and the others in a row of seats. “Did you buy me for Emma?” he managed to ask.

The mayor’s expression was amused as she guided him through the aisle. “No,” she said. “I told you I was going to get out on the water with you. You didn’t offer so I did what I had to do.” Giving a quick grin and blowing her husband a kiss, Mary Margaret joined her daughter and squeezed the blonde’s hand in victory. Their plan had worked.

***AAA***

Granny had long since closed the diner and most people had headed home for the evening, still laughing and carrying on about the auction. Emma’s parents had gone to pick up Neal and headed back to the loft while Regina headed out to Henry. With her bag over her shoulder, Emma walked Killian back to his home at the bed and breakfast, but stopped outside to chat for a moment. Killian stared up at the night sky, his eyes scoping out the familiar patterns in the stars as Emma grabbed two of the bottles of beer and sat down at the end of the patio. “It’s a bit cold, but our options are limited,” she said, plopping down and passing him a beer.

“You always carry such drinks in your bag?”

“I rarely carry my purse in this town,” she said, taking a long sip of the one she was holding. “I usually have to run or chase down some villain so I gave up on accessories that slow me down. I needed my bag tonight though since we had to carry all that cash.”

“I’m a little confused about the chain of events,” he admitted. “You and your mother shocked quite a few of the finer and not so fine members of society tonight. And at the end of it, I’m going on a date with your mother?”

Emma’s smile was a vision of pride and happiness as she kicked her feet up onto the extra chair and crossed them at the ankles. “Our plan wasn’t perfect, but I’m proud of it,” she said. “People were not expecting that at all.”

“Least of all your father or I,” Killian said. He was seated beside her and leaned toward one arm of the chair. “Are you going to tell me why?”

“The surprise factor for one,” Emma said as she sat the bottle down again. “Everyone was expecting my mother and me to be two jealous women there to take on and fight any woman who got too close to the two of you. We let them get the bidding up and then we stepped in with the element of surprise. No one expected a daughter to bid on her father and nobody would have ever guessed my mother would have bid on you. So while they were trying to figure out our strategy, we swooped in and won the bidding.” She lifted the bottle again and tilted it to him in a mock salute or gesture. “Your date may have also spent a large part of today negotiating or intimidating the big spenders.”

“I’m honored that you and your mother thought so highly of us to spend your hard earned money,” Killian said, the smirk returning to his face as he watched her glow in triumph. She had succeeded in her quest without magic, only using her clever wit. The effect, in his opinion, was breathtaking. And despite her protests that she was not wasting her hard earned cash on such trivialness as the auction, she had been the biggest spender of the night.

She grinned again. “You should ask my mother about that,” she teased. “Let’s just say you have no gift items left from the women of Storybrooke.”

“Your mother requested some of the items, but what for?” he asked.

“We sold them to the dwarfs, the Merry Men, and anyone else who might have need for them this holiday,” she said wiggling with the pride that was bubbling inside her. “My mother and I didn’t spend a dime of our own money, but the foundation still got money for the school and you and my father were saved from the perverted clutches of the women of Storybrooke. I’d say that’s a pretty happy ending.”

Killian chuckled. “You and your mother are both bloody brilliant,” he said. “I shall tell her so on our outing tomorrow.”

Emma grinned, “Like mother, like daughter,” she said, tapping her bottle to his. “Now, we do have a matter to discuss.”

“Do you wish for me to pay your mother back for her purchase?”

“No,” Emma laughed. “Our ‘dates’ are only during the day tomorrow. We still have the evening free, correct?”

He nodded. “It would be too cold to be on the water after dark,” he said. “I wouldn’t want your mother to become ill.”

“And it is Valentine’s Day,” she continued, her eyes a bit more suggestive. “Maybe we could finish off the day together?”

Killian bit his lip and appeared to think about her suggestion. “Two of these dates in one day,” he said with a slight nod. “That is more than what I bargained for when I first volunteered.” Taking another sip, his eyes seemed to be asking her a question over the rim of the bottle. “Love, we’ve cleared up the facts of your little plot with your mother, but one thing still bothers me.”

“And what would that be?” Emma asked.

“Your behavior the other morning at the diner,” he said. “In fact the way you have been acting all along since this auction was first conceptualized has made me wonder.”

She tried to look at him sternly, realizing that he was on to her. However, the smile was too natural in coming and her lips turned upward immediately. “Wonder what?” she prodded.

“You were jealous,” he said with a triumphant smile. “You were bloody jealous that other women were interested in me.”

Her eyes fluttered shut in annoyance and because he looked so cute in figuring out her secret. “I’m not usually the type for it,” she said, gulping at the half-full bottle. “But I will admit that I did have some pangs of jealousy.”

“Only pangs, love?”

“I’m not admitting to anything else,” she laughed. “I wasn’t the only one who was affected by those women.” She ran a finger along the seam of the bottle’s label and began to peel it.

“Your mother seems to have recovered,” he noted. “Perhaps a bit more possessive of your father, but they seemed content as they left.” He moved his chair a bit closer to hers, placing his now empty bottle on the table.

“I’m not talking about my parents,” she said accusingly. “You know what I’m talking about.”

“I’m drawing a blank, Emma,” he said, shaking his head slowly as if he were truly considering the options.

“You,” she said, with a grin. “I think it was cute that you didn’t know how to handle all those women.”

“That’s what you think?” he teased, removing the beer from her hand. “I do believe you’ve had too much to drink.”

“Half a beer does not make me drunk,” she laughed. “And you were blushing, stuttering and acting very much like an adolescent boy who flirts and then freaks out when the girl responds.”

He cleared his throat. “Perhaps I was taken aback by their charms,” he said, his eyes challenging her and his lips pouting a bit.

“It was cute,” she said. “I believe I’ve seen it before.” She leaned forward slightly, her arm extending to his arm rest. “In Neverland,” she reminded him. “After we first kissed, you had a surprised expression on your face.”

“No one surprises me as you do, Swan,” he said. “And that kiss was not what I expected at all.”

“Maybe that’s why I was jealous,” she admitted. “I like having that effect on you and seeing you become red because of something I said or did. To see that others can do it made it a little less special.”

He moved a fraction closer to her. “I assure you, love, there is no woman who affects me like you do.”

***AAA***

The next morning dawned cool, but comfortable for February. Emma was already up when Henry managed to drag himself down the stairs and throw himself on the couch as she thumbed through the morning newspaper. “Is it true?” he asked, not waiting for her to answer. “You’re going on a date with Grandpa and Grandma’s going on a date with Killian?”

She glanced over the top edge of the newspaper. “Yes,” she said. “That was the result of the auction.”

“Our family is so screwed up,” he said. “That’s not even right.”

Emma laughed, crossing one denim covered leg over the other. “We’ve had mother-son date nights and so have you and Regina,” she reminded him. “This is no different.”

“It’s creepy,” Henry said, then smiled. “I bet there are some pissed off women in Storybrooke right now.”

Emma’s smile was wide as she shook her head disapprovingly. “This was all for charity,” she reminded her son. “The money went to a good cause.” She glanced up at the clock on the wall. “Alright kiddo, up and at ‘em. We have to get ready, drop Neal off at Granny’s and get you to Regina’s. Then I have to get back here for my date.”

“Are you going to give Grandma a curfew?” he asked as she swatted him with the paper for having his feet on the furniture. “She is going out with your man.”

Emma sighed. “I don’t think he’s your grandmother’s type,” she said straightened up and threw her ponytail over her shoulder. “Those are words I never thought I’d say.”

“You say that every day,” he reminded her. “Living in Storybrooke means a lot of new and strange experiences. I just didn’t think that meant dating your father. If you and grandpa get married, what does that make him to me?”

“Kid, you’re wearing on the nerves,” she warned, “and you’re going to make me late. Now come on. If you hurry up, we can grab breakfast at Granny’s.” He jumped up from the couch and headed back to the stairs.

“Good idea, Mom,” he called over his shoulder. “Wouldn’t want to eat too much on your date with your dad.”

Emma giggled again and headed to the kitchen to rinse out her mug. Her father had left for the market already, taunting her with his planned menu for their day together and her mother was in the bedroom pulling on her boots.

“Ta da,” her mother said, entering the kitchen in a pair of jeans and a bright red and black sweater with a diamond pattern. “I’m all ready for my day on the water.” She was pulling a crocheted cap over her dark hair and laughing as her daughter shook her head.

“If you told me when this whole thing started that I’d be watching you go off with Killian, I would have thought you were crazy,” Emma said.

“I still think you got the better part of this deal,” Mary Margaret told her daughter. “You and your father will have lunch and watch a movie together, perfectly enjoyable activities. I’m going to be alone on a boat with Captain Hook. I am probably going to have work for my meal.”

Emma giggled, and pointed to the coffee she had brewed. “I should hope that he wouldn’t expect my mother who spent more than a thousand dollars for today to work like one of his crew.”

“I hope not too,” her mother answered. “I’m planning to get to know this guy who seems to make my daughter so happy. If I happen to get to scare him a little bit, all the better.”

Emma’s mouth gaped at a bit as she watched her mother pour some coffee and gently hum as she drank from the mug, looking for all intents and purposes innocent and sweet. “You know him,” she answered. “You’ve been around him enough.”

The smile was back on the former teacher’s lips. “I know the man who we met in the Enchanted Forest who left us to escape with Cora. I knew the man who refused to let Aurora go without her heart. I’ve seen the man who turned his ship around with the magic bean so that we could all go to Henry.” She took another sip. “I know the man who was hell bent on killing Rumpelstiltskin, but agreed to put that aside so that you might get Henry back from Pan. I know the man who brought you back to us after the curse that brought us back here. And I know the man who traveled back in time with you when he could have let that portal close and left that up to you alone. Should I go on…”

“No,” Emma said, laughing. “You’re kind of proving my point here. You already know him.”

“Well,” Mary Margaret laughed too. “I want to know the man who did all that and somehow managed to make my daughter see him for more than a pirate. Because no matter my impressions of him and opinions about his past, there must be something there that makes my daughter smile the way she does.”

“You think so?” Emma asked, wiping up an almost imperceptible spot on the counter. “I’m not sure how I feel about you wanting to get to know him better. It could be a very scary thing.”

***AAA***

Henry ran ahead and was already staking out a table before Emma even got through the door. Ruby had to explain the boy that it was a special Valentine’s Day menu and that all the items were just a little more romantic. For instance, the pancakes that he always ordered were heart shaped.

“It doesn’t affect the taste,” Emma told him, reminding him that he had to be at Regina’s house soon. Pushing the stroller past the counter, she called out to Granny and resisted the urge to flip off Ruby when she suggested Emma put on an apron for old time’s sake. Passing Killian she smiled and told him she’d be right back.

Henry waved to Killian and pulled out his handheld game, waiting on his mother to return to the table. Looking up, he saw that the man was a bit hesitant. “You can sit here,” Henry said, sounding like a child talking to the new kid at school. “Mom will be back in a minute. She’ll want you to sit here.”

Killian accepted that as a good invitation and slid into the booth across from the boy. Studying him, he could see the features that were Emma and the ones that were clearly Baelfire. He was a perfect combination of both with many of Regina’s mannerisms thrown in for good measure. He was about to try to start a somewhat awkward conversation with Henry, asking him about school and friends, when the boy looked up.

“I don’t have to give you the talk, do I?” he asked, the expression serious and humorless. “I mean you are taking out my grandmother on a date. You know my grandfather won’t be easy on you about that.”

Killian couldn’t help but smirk at the boy’s interpretation of events. “I’m afraid I had no choice in the matter,” he answered. “Your grandmother spent quite a bit of money on me and now I must take her for an outing. I think your grandfather should understand that since his own daughter bid for him.”

“And you don’t think that’s strange?” Henry asked. “You’re together with my mom, but now you’re going out with her mother. It’s kind of like you used to date my grandfather’s first wife.” The boy seemed to be putting together pieces academically, but he missed the flash across Killian’s face.

“Not quite the same,” Killian answered. “Your grandmother and I are going out on the water today. It is neither romantic nor intimate. You and I have spent time doing the same thing and I dare say we have not been on a date.”

“I didn’t pay for the chance,” Henry countered. “And I am just going to say that you should be careful. You’ve finally been getting on Grandpa’s good side. You don’t want to get him angry again.”

**_A/N: I’m sorry that this is getting close to the end. This has been a very fun one to write. I hope you have been enjoying it as much as I have._**

**_I don't want to spoil the next chapter so no hints, but know there is a twist coming that will affect the dates that the Snow/Emma bought. So no worrying where this is going. I promise happy, fluffy, fun. No I'm not turning this into some other pairing. It is a Captain Swan and Snowing Fic all the way._ **


	9. Setting Sail

**_A/N: I don’t know if I should be amused or insulted that so many thought I was really going to send Killian out on a boat alone with Snow White. I’ll go with amused. Enjoy some Captain Swan, DaddyCharming and MamaSnow._ **

**_Please note that the very last section of the story borders a little inappropriate. I tried to make it as general as I could without naming body parts or too much dirty talk. However, when they start undressing – if that bothers you – skip it._ **

Granny’s was a very popular location that Valentine’s Day morning as many of the men from the auction met their “dates” there. Mary Margaret was not surprised to see a few of them who had not been as creative as others. Sliding in through the back entrance by the stairs to the bed and breakfast, the former teacher shot a glance to see if her daughter or grandson were still there.

“They left a few minutes ago,” said the somewhat gruff voice of Granny. “I’ve got your order right here.”

Mary Margaret slid her the money and accepted the foam container that was designed to keep the food at the right temperature. “She didn’t say anything about this, did she?” she asked, lowering her tone when she saw some of the town’s gossips sitting at the counter.

“No, not a word,” Granny confirmed. “She was still trying to convince Henry that she was perfectly fine with you spending a day with the pirate.”

Cracking a smile, she reached over and gave the older woman a quick hug. “Thank you for this,” she said. “And for keeping quiet about my plans.”

“It’s hard to sneak one by on that girl,” Granny said. “I wouldn’t dare lie to her because she’d see through me in a second, but good news for you is that she didn’t ask. That pirate was here and that kept her plenty occupied.”

There was a moment of panic for the mother as she considered Granny’s words. “He didn’t tell her, did he?” she asked. “I talked to him last night after she left him and made him swear not to let on until everything was ready.”

Granny shook her head. “No, I don’t think so,” she responded. “Emma told him she’d miss him today and to take good care of you.”

A sigh of relief escaped from Mary Margaret’s mouth. “You really are a life saver,” she said. “Here and in the Enchanted Forest.”

The older woman looked a bit embarrassed to accept the praise, looking over the thin wire rim frames she wore to study the woman who had once been a young girl in desperate need of her help. “All I did was make a special chicken dish,” she said in her firm but kind voice. “That daughter of yours is a good woman. I’m glad she’s finding her way and settling in around here. It’s good for her and for us to have her kind of energy in this town.”

Pride swelled in Mary Margaret as she thought of her daughter. “I wish I could take the credit for her turning out like she did, but I’m not responsible for it. She’s just a good girl.”

“You love and care about her,” the woman said. “Doesn’t matter when she learned that, she knows deep down now that she was always wanted and loved. Now get out of here and get your daughter off on her new date.”

Mary Margaret hefted up the box and turned to go back to her car. “I’ll be back in a few to get Neal,” she said. “By the way…you’re here today. When’s the hot date with Doc?”

“Pfffttt…” she said as she wiped at an invisible spot on the counter. “I told that man I was too busy for anything today. We’re going to go check out some of the competition in the dining business tomorrow.”

“Sounds like a hot date,” Mary Margaret teased. “I’ll be in Monday for a report.”

“At my age the best you can hope for is luke warm or tepid,” Granny said. “Now go.”

***AAA***

Emma felt like she had one of those brief glimpses into what life would have been like with her parents growing up as she watched her father cooking their date lunch. He had cranked up the stereo system that usually just gathered dust and was currently trying to sing along to some of the pop songs that were about five years out of date. She realized as he danced over to the sink, wiggling his hips to some insanely bad song that she had the corniest father on earth, which actually made her happy.

Every step he took had some purpose, she realized as he moved his way through the kitchen in a graceful and choreographed way. There were no wasted movements to it, each action was precise and calculated. It was such a stark contrast to her own actions that always seemed frenetic and based on the latest thought to come through her mind. It also reminded her a bit of Killian when he was going about some task that he enjoyed.

As he cooked, she questioned him, not in a hard or uncomfortable way. However, she gave him jumping off points so that he might discuss some of his past. She’d heard of her mother’s time on the run, the early years with doting parents, the way she and Regina had met, and the subsequent aftermath. She’d witnessed her parents in the past, falling in love and becoming the people she knew now. But she realized she had no real stories of her father’s beginnings.

He told her of the humble house where he grew up, the hard work, the loss of his father, and the way his mother encouraged and supported him in every turn. He told her of how scared and unsure he’d been to assume a higher role, how lost he felt without the familiar, and how he’d come to step into the leadership role not solely because of his love for his wife but because it was something inside of him that he had to do.

When the conversation became a little too much, she changed the subject and brought it back to the unorthodox date lunch he was preparing. Instead of some expensive cut of meat, some decadent creation, or some tangy concoction that could rival most restaurants, her father was making hot dogs and chili.

“If you’d had a hot date with some beautiful woman who spent a fortune on you, this is what you’d be making?” she asked as her father held out a small metal spoon for her to taste his creation. “Not very romantic.”

Wagging his eyebrows up and down, he laughed and moved the spoon closer to her. “I’ll have you know that my chili has been known to burn a hole in…

“Many a stomach lining?” Emma asked, sputtering. “That stuff is hot.”

“Means it’s almost ready,” David declared. “And no, this would not have been the menu. But a father and daughter day deserves a fun treat. If you’re a good girl and clean your plate, there may be ice cream for dessert.” He laughed at himself as he reached on the shelf to pull down the hot dog buns. “I’ve always wanted to say that.”

“Dork,” Emma declared as she brought down two plates and dug in the refrigerator. “Beer okay because I have no idea what kind of wine would go with chili and hot dogs?”

“Sure,” he said, bumping her hip with his as he asked if she wanted a little more spice in their lunch. She practically turned green.

“Who is taking calls today?” she asked. “I don’t even have my phone on me.”

“I’ve got the service on,” he said, dishing out the chili over the hot dogs and grinning as she sprinkled shredded cheese over it. “The only one I’m really worried about is if your mother sends Hook overboard. But so far so good on that front.”

David looked positively mischievous as he picked up her plate from where she had placed it on the table and carried it to the living room. “Your mother hates when I do this, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt us,” he said, plopping down on the floor between the couch and coffee table. “But I also have a proposition for you.”

“And what would that be?” she asked, taking a bite out of her hotdog and a quick swig of her beer.

“I know we said a movie, but let’s face it, you have seen every movie I’ve got on DVD. I’d hate for you to be bored or spoil the ending for me. So instead…” He reached under one of the throw pillows and emerged with a deck of cards. “We play a little game?”

Emma eyed the deck, her eyes wide in anticipation. “I’m liking the sound of that,” she said. “But to be honest I’m a little short on cash at the moment after the auction and our ‘generous donation.’”

He shuffled the deck, grinning thoughtfully. “Go Fish it is,” he declared. Without waiting for her response, he dealt her a hand.

***AAA***

Mary Margaret’s car pulled up to the docks just before 11, her dark hair blowing in that slight breeze that always seemed to blow near the water. Pulling her coat tighter, she waited until she saw him approaching, his dark form growing larger as he moved down the path from the roadway toward the buildings and boats that lined the harbor.

“Milady,” he said with a smile. “Wonderful day for a sail, is it not?”

She slid out of the car and opened the cargo area. “I brought what you wanted,” she said. “I had a hard time with some of the items, but I think everything is here.”

“And you don’t mind this?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow in question as she threw one of the larger bags over her shoulder. “You did pay for today.”

“I paid for a trip with you on your new boat,” she reminded him, indicating that he should carry the remaining items. “There were no rules about transfers.”

Killian chuckled, leading her to the last of the slips and welcoming her aboard the sloop that he now called his own. “Do you think we have perhaps surprised her?” he asked as he carried the items down into the cabin area. “She is quite perceptive when given the opportunity.”

Mary Margaret handed down another bag, shrugging her shoulders. “I hope so,” she said. “Right now she’s with David about to eat lunch and none the wiser that I’m about to interrupt them. She’ll be here in about an hour. Granny prepared some food for your dinner tonight.”

He smiled, nodding. “You seem to be enjoying your turn at deception this week,” he accused teasingly. “It is enjoyable to watch when I’m not on the receiving end of it.”

She shook her head. “You have an hour,” she reminded him, sounding every bit the teacher instructing her class. “Use your time wisely.” Placing her hands back in the pockets of her coat, she buried her face in its collar and hurried along the creaking planks toward her car. She could see him scurrying about the deck with his determination evident even from a distance. Smiling to herself, the backed her car out of the parking spot and headed back into town to pick up Neal.

She waited the allotted time and then called her husband’s cell phone, trying to sound panicked as she complained of a flat tire and needing rescue. As promised before, he placed her on speaker phone and she knew that Emma could hear the desperation dripping from each word.

“Honey, I really need you to come here to the docks,” she told him. “We haven’t been able to change this tire for the spare.”

“Of course,” David said, sounding concerned. “I’ll be right there.”

Mary Margaret smiled to herself again as she sat in the car and looked in the rearview mirror at her son. “Your sister’s going to kill us and then she’s going to love us,” she said in her best perky voice. “Just watch.” A few moments later, she breathed a sigh of relief as Emma was the one leaving the loft and jumping in her car to head toward the docks. David had done his part.

***AAA***

“Killian?” Emma called as she proceeded from what had been an empty parking lot toward the sailing vessels that made their home there. “Killian?”

Stepping up from the cabin area, he watched her approaching with a look that was curiously hesitant as she spotted him. “I’m here, love,” he told her. He stepped onto the worn wood with a gentle thud and gestured grandly. “Welcome.”

“You are here and no sign of my mother or her car.” She shook her head. “I don’t believe you two,” she laughed. “There was no flat tire, was there?”

“No,” he confirmed. “That was a ruse by your mother to get you here.”

“And my father convinced me that he had no idea how to change one,” she added, folding her arms over her chest. “All to get me down here.”

“It seemed fitting that you should be her first passenger,” Killian explained, gently placing his hand under her elbow to lead her toward their transportation for the day. “Your mother agreed when we spoke last night. So she graciously stepped aside so that we might have the opportunity.”

Emma looked at the sloop and shook her head again. “You could have just asked,” she said. “You didn’t have to go to so much trouble and so much trickery.”

He grinned. “And you, love, could have bid on me yourself and avoided this all together,” he reminded her. Watching her resolve fall, he could feel her lower her arms and her hand reach out for his. “And this is not my trickery. Your mother did not mean it as deception but as a gift to us.”

“My gift is you?” Emma asked, skeptically studying him. “I’m not sure that’s what I would ask my mother to give me.”

“Perhaps you are my gift for some untold good deed in my past,” he said. “I must have done something incredibly noble to get to spend today with a princess.” Holding out his hand, he motioned for her to take it and come aboard the sleek vessel.

She stepped aboard gingerly, taking in the smooth woodwork and the shining instruments. “It’s beautiful,” she complimented. “I know you’re proud.”

“She’s beautiful,” he corrected. “And in need of a new name, as I’m not sure sailing under the identity of another is well-advised. Perhaps you might think of one as I’m getting us set.”

There was a moment of hesitancy as she stepped back to let him work, her gut clenching. She was not a control freak by any means, but the idea of sitting back and watching him work was unsettling to her. His attention was focused on the headsail, its tension not quite what he wished for it. She approached him and placed her hand over his hooked arm. “Show me?” she asked, simply. Like she expected, he went to protest, but she would not let him. “If you want me to enjoy days like this with you, I need to learn.”

He nodded curtly and placed the rope in her hands, closing his own over hers. With soft words, he guided her through the process and marveled at the smile she wore when he praised her. Soon they were slicing through the water, a gentle motion belying the actual speed and momentum. He made the final adjustments, allowing her to assist. Motioning for her to join him, he offered his hand to help her up to the platform where the helm was located.

“It’s different,” she said, holding her hair back with one hand. “I don’t think I’ve been out on the water with you for pleasure.”

“Aye,” he said, running his hand along the more modern wheel. “I’m not so sure she’s the right vessel for traversing the realms or rescue missions, but she’s perfect for an afternoon sail.”

She listened to the wind’s biting sound as it brushed against them, shivering a bit. He was not looking at the haze of the land masses or the blue of the sky, keeping his eyes on her instead. “I’m not that interesting,” she protested. “You should be soaking up all of this. We have weeks of winter left before we’ll have another day like today.”

He stepped to her side, his chest grazing her left arm as his hand reached to the back of her head and hauled her toward him, pressing his lips to hers in a hungry fashion. When he pulled back, she leaned forward, her mouth still seeking his. “I’ve been at home on the sea for hundreds of years,” he told her. “Having you in my arms is more beguiling and enchanting than any of those experiences.”

“Tall order to live up to,” she said, challenge evident in her voice. “So we’re out here, alone I might add. Do you have any plans for me? Or are we just being spontaneous?”

He leaned his forehead against her temple, his nose brushing the side of her face. “I thought we might anchor in a small inlet I found before and share a meal this evening,” he told her. “I will warm our dinner, but first things first, are you cold? I don’t wish for you to be uncomfortable here.”

“Food is always good,” she said giggling a bit, “so long as it isn’t chili dogs.”

The culinary concept was a new one to the pirate, but she put his mind at ease that she was not referring to anything inhumane or at all what he was thinking.

Unfolding a blanket that he had brought for her, she wrapped herself in it and watched the gentle rise and fall against the waves, a soothing sight compared to the turbulence she had seen before. “You know,” she said, breaking the silence that had settled between them between stolen caresses and kisses. “Since we’ve been seeing each other you’ve learned a lot about me. You have seen some of the things from my childhood and teenage years. You’ve even read a few of my essays and seen paintings I did as a kid.”

He looked a bit suspicious as to where the conversation was going. “Aye,” he said. “You have been good to share those with me.”

She shifted on the padded seat to face him rather than the view expanding in front of her. “I don’t know as much about you,” she said. “What I do know usually comes from you trying to make me feel better about something. So I want to know about you.”

He chuckled at that, his eyes casting downward. “I suppose I haven’t been completely open about such things,” he said. “However, since you asked, I might be able to answer a question or two.”

She grinned widely, pulling up her legs so that her chin rested at her knees. “Good,” she said. “I want to hear something happy about when you were a child. I want to picture an adorable younger version of Killian Jones.”

“What makes you so sure that I was that?” he asked. “I might have been horribly awkward and gangly until I reached my devilishly handsome status.” He winked as she shook her head at him. “Very well. A happy story…”

***AAA***

Ruby looked at her grandmother critically as she fastened her coat and slipped on her gloves. “Gran,” she said. “You must have made 1,000 pounds of chicken. What were you thinking? That’s not even one of our best sellers.”

The older woman hummed as she boxed up another order and placed it in the window to be handed over to the to-go customers. “It’s special for today,” Granny said with a smirk. “I saw the recipe on television when I sick a few weeks ago.”

The kitchen smelled of spices and tomato sauce that had been poured over the braised chicken thighs. Saffron rice added to the delightful aromas that played about the woman’s sensitive nose. “You were watching television?” Ruby asked, concerned that the older woman had picked up a new habit that she had been refusing for more than 28 years. “You really must have been sick.”

The woman clicked her tongue at the top of her mouth and passed her granddaughter a container of the rice, chicken and marinated vegetables. “For you and that Dr. Whale,” she said with a feigned smile. “I take it you think he’s worthy of this.”

“Of what?” Ruby asked, peeking into the container. “Why are you giving me food?”

“I told you it’s special for today,” the woman said, turning back to her busy stove. “It’s a surefire recipe that will be on everyone’s lips this year.”

“Does it have a name?” Ruby asked, eyeing the stove doubtfully. Granny was a good cook and ran a great diner, but she wasn’t much for experimenting in the kitchen. Her recipes were tried and tested, having been in her repertoire for years.

The widow looked vaguely amused as she poured more of the sauce into a pan of chicken. “Get Your Man Chicken,” she said with a knowing look. “Woman on television said it worked like a charm for her.”

“You know that couple’s now divorced,” Ruby said, leaning a hip against one of the prep tables.

“It’s not called, ‘Keep Your Man Chicken,’” Granny laughed. “It’s to get him. What you do after that is your own problem. Now, get out of here with that before I decide to sell it to one of these other customers.”

“Thank you, Granny,” Ruby said, kissing her cheek. “If Victor doesn’t have plans for dinner tonight, I’m sure we’ll enjoy it.”

“He called and ordered dinner for the two of you a while ago,” she said. “I figured it would cheaper on the delivery charges if you took it yourself.” She shook her head as the younger woman scampered from the kitchen. “Don’t forget the dessert.

***AAA***

“You and my mother thought of everything,” she commented as he delivered a decadent chocolate dessert to the table. “Even dessert.”

“She’s very thorough,” he smiled. “And the Widow Lucas has a knack for delicious dishes.”

Her fork sliced through the chocolate ganache and cake that appeared to practically melt at the touch. “That she does,” Emma agreed. “She is right up there with some of the best restaurants in New York and Boston, even if she does rely on frozen food sometimes.”

He chuckled lightly. “Thank you for spending this time with me,” he said, looking remarkably sincere for a man with a bit of chocolate on her mouth. She couldn’t resist the urge to wipe away the glaze and then lick it off her own fingers. His eyes went from sincere gratitude to a dark and brazen color as she did.

“Sorry,” she said. “I hate a mess.”

“What I was saying was that I have enjoyed our time alone today,” he continued, his voice a little strained as she looked at him in the same manner that she looked at the dessert. “I suppose we should head back now, return you home safely before it gets too late.”

Emma did not agree or disagree, finishing the dessert with him and helping to clean up the tight area. She looked at the storage cabinets and ran her finger along the doors.

“You seem to have stocked up,” she said softly. “Maybe you should give me a tour before we think about going back.”

“There isn’t much to see,” he admitted, leaning upon his hand that braced itself next to the instrument panel. “She does not even have quarters for crew.”

“But you could sleep here if you wanted?” she asked. “Where?”

He pushed himself toward the narrow passage to the larger of two cabins. “I had a bed installed just the other day,” he said. “I hoped that perhaps in warmer weather I might spend some nights here rather than at Granny’s.” The room was tight, barely room to walk on either side of the bed and with two grown adults it was even tighter.

“If we didn’t go back, could we stay right here?”

He blinked in rapid succession, watching her in the dim light of the room. “Here?” He practically stumbled. “Your family is expecting you back home. I don’t think your mother intended for you to stay here with me when she decided to…”

“I was just thinking that it seems a shame to go back when it is so pleasant out here,” she said. “And we found such a nice spot here that I think would look beautiful at sunrise. I’ve never seen sunrise from the water before.”

She was not sure if it was the impact of what she was saying or if he actually felt his legs weaken, but he backed himself onto the bed clumsily. She tried not to look too amused “Not much room in here,” she said, coming closer and staring at the cabin area. “We’d have to sleep close together.”

“This wasn’t my intention,” he said looking to her with a pleading expression and tone. He seemed desperate that she understand he was not intending to seduce her or pressure her in any way. “I just wished to spend time alone with you and enjoy your company on the water today.”

Emma sighed heavily and nodded. There was a moment of silence as Killian sat on the edge of his bed smiling innocently at her. Emma walked towards him slowly and placed her hands on the back of his neck. She leaned forward and forcefully planted her lips on his, kissing him deep and passionately. Killian wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, deepening their kiss. She broke away from him and pulled her hair back so it was out of her way. She smiled seductively at him and leaned forward again, planting a soft trail of kisses on his neck, moving her way up until she was once again positioned with her face in front of his. Killian was clearly enjoying this, but he looked at her suspiciously. "What exactly are you trying to do?" Emma pouted playfully as she replied. "Just trying to see if this room was comfortable." She tilted her head and grinned at him, knowing that she was playing the seduction act to the hilt. Killian shook his head and stammered out an answer. "I am very comfortable,” he affirmed. Emma nodded and winked at him. She moved lower and planted a kiss on his chest where his top button was unbuttoned. She used her fingers to undo the first button, planting another kiss after another piece of his chest was exposed to her. She repeated the procedure for each button, making a line of kisses down his chest. Killian's breathing became shallower and more labored as she moved further down, and Emma knew he was trying to show restraint as she continued her assault. She undid the last button on his dark shirt and she placed her lips on his waistline right above the button in his pants, this time letting her tongue gently flick his warm skin. Killian let out a soft moan of pleasure, and Emma had to suppress her urge to giggle, knowing that she was gradually weakening his defenses, and bringing him under her power. Emma pulled the bottom of his shirt out of his pants and opened it wider, exposing his bare chest to her. She ran her hands over his skin slowly, enjoying its warmth and smoothness, and the well-defined muscles that were underneath. Emma leaned again, capturing Killian's mouth with her own as she gently scratched her nails over his chest and stomach. She kept the kiss going as she pulled his shirt off of his shoulders and arms, tossing it to the floor beside the bed. Emma moved her hands to his back, stroking her fingertips from the base of his spine to the base of his neck as they kissed. She pressed herself closer to him, allowing her breasts to press up against his chest. Emma moaned softly as she felt the fire from his skin through her clothing. She was having fun, true, but she wanted more. She craved his touch, and the feel of his skin on hers. She had previously imagined what it might be like in dreams she had on cold lonely nights alone in her room. She broke off their kiss and smiled sexily at him. At least she tried to make it sexy, but feared it would come off as silly. However, she must have done something right because Killian responded with raised eyebrows and a grin of his own. Emma took a deep breath in before she made her next move, but she was not afraid of what she wanted to do, only nervous that he would turn her away with some logic about how they should wait or how she had other responsibilities that took priority. She pulled the hem of her sweater up over her head. It dropped all the way to the floor on its own, Killian's eyes widened and his jaw dropped slightly. "Emma..." "Killian, shhhh... Don't talk." "It's just... You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. You are bloody amazing." Emma smiled sweetly at him and kicked her sweater aside, slipping out of her shoes as well. Without breaking eye contact, she lowered her jeans, divesting herself of the material before she could find an excuse to stop. She moved close to him again and grabbed his hand, laying it on her bare stomach. Just the feel of his hand on her skin was enough to send a shock like lightning through her body. "Don't tell me what you feel, Killian. Show me, show me what you're feeling." Killian nodded slightly, unable to form any words at all. He breathed in and moved his hand towards the base of her spine, pulling her close to him. She moved closer and straddled his closed legs so that she could rest on his lap. Killian looked up at her and kissed her passionately; letting his hand roam freely over her skin. His other arm held her in place, the, while his hand rubbed lazy circles on her stomach. Emma craved more, so she deepened the kiss and pressed herself closer to him.

As his neck craned back and he broke off their kiss to bring in oxygen that they both desperately needed, he captured her gaze. “Emma, I don’t want…”

“I swear if you overanalyze this I might just scream,” she laughed, unbelieving that she was laughing at such a moment. “Killian, we’ve been moving toward this moment for so long now. I know this is what I want and I know you…”

“I didn’t claim not to want you, love,” he said. “I just don’t want you to regret…”

“Nothing to regret,” she said. “I regret things, but not this.” She waved a hand between them. “Not us.”

“I love you, Emma,” he said as she moved both hands to his face and held his head in place to look directly at him. “If you change your mind…”

“I have already given you more of myself than I ever thought it was possible to give,” she said, pulling back so that she could push the now unbuttoned shirt from his chest. He gasped at her forwardness as she unfastened his pants and pulled him up to separate him from those as well. They both laughed as she realized she had forgotten his boots. “We need to get you more casual clothing.” She pushed back on the bed, following alongside and enjoying the look of both surprise and utter adoration on his face.

As they removed the last bits of fabric from each other, she felt herself mouthing the words that she wanted to say. First against his skin, his mouth and finally she let the three words slide out with a breath of air. “I love you.”

The reaction from him was immediate and their mouths fused together, hands again searching and exploring what had been hidden and untouched. Her hand over his torso, admiring every perfect nook and cranny that his body revealed to her. He leaned forward and gave her a short, but deep kiss on the lips. Their movements mimicked each other, both following the other as they moved toward the inevitable conclusion. They held on to each other tightly, moving together, and exploring every inch of each other's bodies as time felt it had stopped. What they felt between them went well beyond what only a few words could have explained, their hearts beating in rhythm with each other and their two souls entwining, merging to become one.

**_A/N: Get Your Man Chicken is a real thing and you can look up the recipe by Gina Neely on the Food Network website. I have made it and while I already had a husband, I’ll tell you that he loved it and was very appreciative._ **


	10. The End for Now

**_A/N: I meant to have this up last night, but after a double ear infection, medication, and a daughter who wanted to stay late after her skating practice, I was exhausted. So here is the final installment – epilogue if you will. This has been a fun chance to write about these characters and put them in a frivolous and crazy set of circumstances. Thanks for reading, reviewing, following and favoriting. See you soon with more stories._ **

Mary Margaret stopped in the center of the loft’s kitchen and smiled at the vase of perfectly white snowbells. Leave it to David, she thought, to scour the city search of her favorite flower. The entire loft was quiet except for the occasional appliance hum and the radiator against the wall. Neal was softly cooing in his crib and David was sprawled out on the bed with his favorite sweat pants and mismatched socks on is feet. She heard no scurrying in the loft upstairs, indicating that Emma was not home yet or that she was still fast asleep. Deciding to enjoy the solitude a moment longer before any of her clan objected, Mary Margaret plopped down on the couch and cradled the coffee mug in her hands.

David had been quite the gentleman for Valentine’s. After agreeing to cute his father-daughter date short so that Emma could spend the day with Killian, he had changed the mood of the loft dramatically. The two had enjoyed their own movie date, gone to the poetry reading/wine tasting at the library, dined on dinner thanks to Granny, picked up their son, and spent an enjoyable evening dozing in the quietness of a home without any adult children, grandchildren, or stray visitors to disturb them.

Glancing back at the bed where her husband was lying face down between the two pillows, she grinned and realized what trouble he had gone to, making her day a special one. He’d not complained about the changes of events that probably caused him a great deal of stress. A nice leisurely breakfast for their Sunday morning might actually be a nice treat, she thought and happily dug through the cabinets and refrigerator. No eggs. Hard to make breakfast without them.

Scribbling a quick note and placing it on the pillow beside him, she scurried out the door and back toward town with the hope that at least one of the local places would be open on a Sunday morning. Life was just beginning to stir in the cold air, blinds and shades opening to a bright but deceptive sun on a cloudless sky.

She hurried across the street, finding most establishments still closed and wondering if she could somehow convince Ruby to give her a couple of raw eggs. The only other person on the street was equally bundled Belle, who was chasing down a now out of date of flyer that the wind had picked up.

“Not many would go to that much trouble,” Mary Margaret said to the woman as she successfully captured the paper under her foot.

“I hate to see a mess,” Belle said. “Especially one that is my own making.” She tossed the flyer into a nearby recycling bin.

“The poetry event was wonderful,” she told her as the two women dodged the lone car moving on the street that morning. “I’m glad to see we’re starting to have events like that.”

Belle stepped up onto the sidewalk in front of Granny’s and headed to the door, seeing the former teacher pause. “Come on,” she said. “We all have the best of intentions, but breakfast or brunch at Granny’s is inevitable. Best to get in now before the selections are limited.” She held her arm out to link with Mary Margaret’s.

The two were third in fourth in line at the to-go order location, most people choosing to eat in that morning. Paper hearts and pink and white table cloths still decorated the restaurant along with crepe paper and now sagging balloons. Mary Margaret placed her order first, texting Emma to subtly ask when they could expect her and should she order food. The mother and former teacher leaned against the counter and waited for her order as Belle placed hers.

“Two coffees?” she asked, looking eagerly at the young woman.

Belle smiled and stepped aside to make room for the next customer. “Archie offered to come help me finish putting everything back after yesterday’s reading at the library. I thought the least I could do was order him some coffee and a breakfast muffin.” She shrugged. “Don’t look at me that way.”

“I’m not looking at you in any way,” Mary Margaret protested. “Just thinking it’s nice to have a friend.”

“Friends are good,” Belle agreed. The waitress slid a bag and two cups toward the librarian and smiled. “I should get this back to the library.”

Mary Margaret agreed to bring Neal to the new Mommy and Me reading classes that were starting up at the library and to see if Emma might want to join her for a new women’s reading group as well. Belle was clearly spending some of her newly free hours filling the library schedule with plenty of events, classes, and special readings. Henry had suggested game nights and movie marathons that she was thinking to implement next.

Waiting on her own order Mary Margaret couldn’t help but look happily at Ruby who was behind the counter and smiling quietly and filling some of the dispensers as she hummed along with the music that was playing that morning. She saw her friend from the Enchanted Forest looking at her and sighed, “What?”

“You just look happy,” her friend said. “I’m glad.”

Ruby ducked her head down and continued her task. “It feels good to be a winner,” she said, shimmying to the music. “And we raised more in the auction than the last five fundraisers put together. I think that qualifies it as a success.”

Grabbing her order, Mary Margaret grinned in return. “And your date that you won,” she instigated. “Would you consider that a success?”

The waitress winked and shut the drawer behind her with a forceful blow of her hip. “Not as successful as the auction, but we can always improve on that.”

The parking spots were starting to fill up downtown as exited the dinner, her bag insecurely held as she juggled the drink holder. Avoiding a little patch of ice on the sidewalk, she heard her daughter calling her name and waving to her from the little yellow car that she still drove. “I thought you were headed back to the loft,” she told the blonde. “I picked up breakfast for you.”

“I was just dropping off Killian,” Emma said, looking into her rearview mirror to ensure that she was not blocking traffic. “I’ll be there in a few.”

Mary Margaret lifted the drink carrier awkwardly. “I assumed he’d be joining us,” she said. “Even have his coffee and a house pancake special.” She waited a moment as Emma spoke to him and he exited the car to get into the backseat.

“Well if you’re buying breakfast the least we can do is give you a ride back,” Emma told her.

Soon they were all gathered around the small kitchen table passing around food and sipping coffee over conversation. David threatened to make chili again the next time it snowed with Emma claiming that it could be used to melt any ice accumulation that they might have on the roads. Mary Margaret told them that the auction had raised so much money that it was now being considered as an annual event at least. That sent David and Killian into plans to come up with a new idea that would not put any of the men in awkward positions, but by the time the meal ended they had not found a one.

Across town Ruby covered her grandmother’s shift at the diner as the older woman joined Doc for a meal at the local seafood place. There was not much in terms of personal conversation between the two, but they did manage to critique each of the dishes for both culinary value and health before they enjoyed a rousing demonstration of proper crossbow usage from Little John who had been eating at the seafood bar with the waitress who had won the date with him. The four ended up enjoying their activities so much that Ruby complained no more double dates for Granny and any of the staff, as it left the diner too short handed.

Mr. Smee got to the diner the hour that it opened and did not leave until nearly dinner time that night, ordering only a few of the cheaper items on the menu. However, he did leave a tip larger than his actual bill for the waitress who had been his date the day before. Ruby was brushed aside each time she tried to serve him, as he had specifically requested a seat in that section for more time to talk to his prior date. Tom Clark complained to Emma the next day that Leroy was now spending every free hour at the Rabbit Hole. Emma asked him how was this any different, but she did not worry too much as his actual public drunkenness charges seemed to fall by the wayside.

Belle passed a glass of wine over to Ruby a few nights later and settled herself on the couch in the sitting area of the bed and breakfast. The two were calling the impromptu wine drinking their event debriefing session. Both women were kicking off their shoes and placing newly knitted lap blankets over their legs.

“So next year?” Ruby asked. “I think we don’t change a thing.”

Belle swirled the red liquid attentively, her hands close to her chest. “I’m not so sure,” she said. “We caused a lot of problems. It was sheer luck that it worked out.”

Ruby nodded. “True. There were moments when I wondered if the women in this town would actually kill each other or me.”

“We could always go with that idea to do a calendar,” Belle said. “That way anyone can get a return on their investment.”

“Ooooohhhh,” Ruby said sitting up straight. “Or a raffle. Everyone buys a ticket or as many as they want to win a date with the models. That way everyone has a fair shot and nobody can dominate the bidding.”

“Who tells Emma and Mary Margaret?” Belle asked. “I don’t think they’ll be too happy about that.”

The two women dissolved into a fit of giggles, piping up with their suggestions of costumes, themes, and promotions. By the time they broke up the tête-à-tête, they were well on their way to a new way to ring in 2016 that would take the town by storm.

**_Thanks again for reading. Don’t you want to review again for old time’s sake?_ **


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